


In the Service of King and Country

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Category: Dark City (1998), Kushiel's Legacy - Jacqueline Carey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM Scene, Consensual Underage Sex, Cousin Incest, Demisexuality, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Intrigue, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Harold Finch/John Reese, Polyamory, Prostitution, The Night Court, godly prostitution, mutual underage sex, side characters stolen from person of interest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-03-08 09:09:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 74,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13455051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: Raised for the service of Naamah, a sign from the gods turns Daniel's path in directions he'd never anticipated.





	1. Prologue: Ben no Balm

Though my childhood was spent as a treasured scion of the Court of Night-Blooming flowers, it was a childhood in which I never felt like I belonged. We were born to the service of Naamah, divinity of love and passion, and while I told myself She would bless me with that sense of belonging when I finally dedicated myself to Her, part of me always worried that it was not the case.

It was the same part of me that closed my eyes in sleep and heard the faint clash of steel in my dreams.

I tried not to listen to it. My place was with Daniel.

My cousin Daniel and I were born with the hope that our beauty would be of the kind that peaks in glorious, fragile perfection and then fades, and by the time we were eight it was all-too apparent that we both failed to fit the canon of Cereus house. Like our mothers, twin sisters, our hair was fair as flax and eyes were blue as the sky. Unlike our mothers, our beauty was rugged and strong, with none of the evanescence that set House Cereus apart. Still, we were beautiful, and near to being twins ourselves in appearance. We'd been taught all our lives in preparation to serve the Court, and that was where our future lay, even if our mark was to be sold to another house.

I knew that Daniel hoped to catch the attention of House Gentian, renowned for their mysticism. Sister Helene, a beautiful priestess who taught us our religious studies, was a former House Gentian adept, and when she'd discovered Daniel's hunger for reading she'd brought him some of the books of their canon, which he devoured as readily as he had already done to every book in House Cereus. I read some as well, because Daniel was so excited about it, but even then I knew that he was far more brilliant than I. 

The problem with the art of House Gentian was much the same as House Heliotrope and House Balm; the arts of the adepts were best suited to a solo assignation, to the relationships built between adept and patron. Daniel and I, while beautiful alone, became truly extraordinary in our togetherness. We were both a matched pair and a compliment to each other. Such a strength would be wasted in a house like Gentian, even if Daniel's brilliance was suited to such a house.

Our sameness was indeed the reason why we were bought by House Camellia, something which was more terrifying than it was flattering. The canon of Camellia was perfection, and many fosterlings that failed to live up to that standard were moved into different houses. Daniel set about our studies with more fervency than ever before in order to help me keep up, and in turn I did my best to master the house's physical practices, so that I could help my cousin in return. In the end it was no use - a carriage accident on the morning after the Longest Night with a spooked horse left Daniel with a broken leg, his perfection marred. 

I'd been elsewhere when it had happened - by the time I heard he was already being rushed away by carriage to Eshieth's healers.

"He'll recuperate at Balm," I heard the Dowayne say behind me. "They've shown interest in his aptitudes before, they'll take him in. Though it would be a shame to part such a beautiful matched pair, you are still welcome here, Benjamin. But that choice is up to you."

There was no reason to go with him; it was he who'd lost my perfection, not I. It occured to me in that moment that my assumption that Daniel and I would always be together could have been wrong.

For the first time in my life, I felt truly frightened.

But I didn't belong at Camellia without him. I didn't belong anywhere without him, especially at a house that would turn him away. "I'm staying with him," I said, and that was that.

"I'm so sorry," Daniel sobbed quietly from his sickbed when he woke, bandaged and splinted and groggy from the opiates. "You didn't have to leave Camellia for me, you didn't have to - "

Heart aching, I climbed into bed to hold him, trying to reassure him with gentle touch and soft kisses, as we had always comforted each other. "Shh, it's okay. Don't cry, Daniel. Just rest, just get better. Camellia doesn't matter. Nothing matters but staying with you."

At least the teachings of Balm were easier for me to understand. The idea of finding comfort and healing in intimacy resonated with me far more than the values of Camellia or Cereus ever had. And my sweet cousin was as brilliant as he ever was; as our theoretical training began at age ten he excelled with it as he always had.

Perhaps I should have felt threatened by his aptitudes, or at least felt jealous. But I'd never felt anything but adoration for my sweet cousin. Any path I took in life would be worth it, as long as I could be his companion.

***

Our theoretical instruction in the arts of Namaah would begin at our formal dedication at thirteen, but it was impossible to grow up in the houses of the Night Court without becoming aware of many of the ways to worship Her. During Daniel's convalescence he'd somehow gotten hold of a copy of the _Log of Seven Hundred Kisses_ , and when I was given leave to spend time with him he'd whisper breathlessly of things he'd learned, eyes alight with excitement. The thought of truly serving still made me nervous, but Naamah would bless me with surety once I was dedicated. And talking with Daniel about the art of intimacy was easy... and perhaps a little thrilling. 

"What do you think it feels like?" he whispered to me in bed one night, when we were a few months shy of thirteen. Though the night was chilly, I felt my skin heat at the thought. It was easy to imagine practicing the things that we learned about with Daniel. In fact, it was rare that I thought of else.

"We have to remain pure until we enter the service," I whispered back, the one thing that had been drilled into our heads time and again.

"Of course we will," Daniel whispered back, and I could see him frown even in the near-darkness. "But the older trainees say they practice little things all the time. Alone, or with a mirror, or sometimes, like with seven hundred kisses, you have to practice together. We need to know what it feels like to get it right, don't we?"

Daniel had always been so earnest, so eager to learn and excel. Listening to him speak to me in the darkness of our shared bed, suddenly he'd never been more beautiful. I thought of the practical arts of healing we had learned at Balm, and the things Daniel had read, and how they would come together once we truly began instruction in the arts of Naamah. And finally, in that moment, I felt Naamah's blessing upon me, felt the sweetness and purity of desire light and warm me from within.

Finding one of Daniel's hands between us, I drew it up to my lips, cradling gently it in both of mine and letting my lips hover over the backs of his fingers, just barely brushing his skin. The warmth between us was glorious and pure, and my lips ached to worship him in a way I'd never imagined. Slowly, reverently, I started a journey of kisses across the backs of his fingers, his knuckles, the back of his hand, each kiss more wondrous than the last.

I could hear my cousin's breath grow more laboured as I turned his hand to press my lips to his palm. "Do you feel Naamah's blessing?" I whispered, continuing my journey, finding it more natural than I'd ever expected to suck gently on the soft flesh at the heel of his thumb.

"Oh yes." Daniel's voice, barely louder than a whisper, was heavy with the same desire I felt, and suddenly I couldn't be patient anymore.

"It's so glorious," I whispered, and arched close to claim my cousin's lips with mine.

There was little of art in the fumbled pleasure we found that night, but to my young heart it was still more beautiful than anything I could have imagined. We'd been encouraged since birth to be in tune with the needs of our bodies, so I had on occasion saw fit to pleasure myself. But touching my sweet cousin was nothing like that. It was a hundred, thousand times more beautiful to feel Daniel shudder against me, arching up into my fist as I caressed his cock. It was amazing, to hear him gasp and whimper, to steal those whimpers with kisses. And gods, but the touch of his hands on my body were divine!

"I love you," I whispered, once the heat of our young passions had been banked. "By Blessed Elua, Daniel, I love you."

"My dearest," Daniel whispered back thickly, and curled close. "I love you, too."

~~~

"Do you suppose the others will have taught themselves so much?" Daniel whispered, as we lay together on the morning of his thirteenth birthday, the skies through our bedroom window pink with dawn.

I smiled, turning my face to kiss him and drinking in his sweetness. The Court of the Night Blooming flowers slept late - Daniel and I would have an hour or so together still. "I think... that no-one is as smart or quick of study as my dear cousin," I told him, sliding my arms around his waist. "And no-one is as good a teacher."

Daniel gave a pleased hum into my mouth, arching against me unrestrainedly. We'd slept nude together for months, but the press of his body had never become any less exquisite, and I felt the desire Naamah had blessed me with burn hotter at the feel of him. "I think that no-one is as perfect a partner as my dear cousin," Daniel whispered, fingers moving over my body to find the points of pleasure that never failed to arouse. "No-one is as beautiful or compelling as you, Ben...."

"Or as you," I agreed, licking into the sweetness of his mouth, sliding my hands over his flanks and hips. "I think we'll have to pretend to find many things new."

Daniel laughed breathlessly, fingers stroking against my ribs just hard enough to find pleasure. "Perhaps it will be fun to do so... to pretend I've never felt such pleasure at your hands...."

"I can't wait to learn more," I breathed, and pressed him onto his back, slotting myself between his thighs. It felt good, being on top of him, the hard length of my cock pressed between us with his own as we rocked slowly together. I caught Daniel's hands in mine, twining our fingers together and pressing them to the pillows as I drank in his kisses. "So many things I want to learn...." I sucked my way gently down his throat, tasting him without giving mark to his golden skin. "I want to study the art of _languisement_... I want to practice it on you...."

I felt Daniel's fingers tighten on mine, muscles tensing as he arched up against me with a soft whimper. "Oh yes," he whispered, shifting to wrap one thigh around my hips, stroking my skin with the tender inside of it. "Oh yes, Ben... want to taste you, feel you in my mouth, gods...."

Part of me wanted to try it immediately, to slide down his body and take his cock between my lips. But Daniel deserved more skill than I had, and in any case, we had all the time in the world. "I want to worship Naamah at the altar of your body," I whispered, sucking at his collarbone, letting go of his hands to cradle his head in mine, card fingers through his hair. "My sweet cousin..."

"Yes," Daniel whimpered, drawing me back to his mouth even as the movement of our bodies grew more frantic, even as our breath came heavy. "Gods, yes... and when our virgin price has been paid... I want to complete every rite to Naamah with you... and we will be paired, truly and surely, forever... oh!"

Even the idea of it filled me with want; surely the desire Naamah blessed me with was the witness that this was her path for us, for me! "I promise," I whispered into my cousin's mouth. "Anything you want, my love. My dearest...!"

Daniel's fingers dug into my back, muffling his cry of pleasure against my lips as he spilled between us, hips jerking up against mine, eagerly chasing sensation. It was beautiful, perfect, and I let myself follow, losing myself to the warmth of his body and the pleasure of climax with the belief that we would never, ever be parted.

~~~

 

 

 

 

 

 

Despite our promises to each other, I couldn't help but feel a sense of uneasiness as the day went on. I tried to tell myself that it was just excitement. Daniel and I hadn't been part of Balm at age ten, when a household celebrates its new apprentices, so being able to mark this date with the teachers and adepts of Balm was special. We would be dedicated in the sweet hours of the afternoon at the house chapel, after which a viewing of the rites of Naamah had been arranged to mark our initiation.

In the afternoon we dressed for the first time in the robes of the apprentice, and went with the House's second, a kind man named Simone, to the market. There were a few ways for apprentices to earn coin for small niceties, and Daniel and I eached purchased a dove in a plain cage for our offering. When we returned to House Balm a scarlet-clad priestess of Naamah waited in the house's small temple, along with the Dowayne of the house, who smiled her approval at us both.

Inside, more acolytes waited to assist with our dedication. The temple was filled with fresh flowers from our gardens, sunlight filtering through the frosted glass windows and the opening at the top of the temple dome. The statue of Naamah smiled kindly down upon us, one hand holding the stones that represented the burdens of the soul, the other reaching out towards us, offering her companionship in love and compassion, as House Balm believed. A fountain sprang from the rocks at her feet, trickling down over the statue, the noise of it adding to the feel of peace and tranquility in the temple.

"Do each of you wish to be dedicated to the service of Naamah?" the priestess asked.

"I do," Daniel answered quickly, and I pushed aside my nervousness and echoed him. The priestess smiled, and taking us both to the waiting acolytes. The blessings of the dedication were fourfold - a baptism with water to represent Naamah's sacred river, followed by honey cake and wine, to bless our service with the sweetness of desire and the headiness of passion.

Finally I watched her draw scented oil across Daniel's forehead, holding his gaze. "May your soul ever find grace in the service of Naamah," she said softly, and in the soft, golden light of the temple, my sweet cousin looked transcendent with joy, golden eyelids fluttering closed. The priestess gave a soft hum of approval. "So mote it be. You may now offer your service, brother."

Daniel's smile was radiant as he opened his eyes, glancing back to me. "I'll wait," he whispered, then took his caged dove before him to kneel in front of the altar.

I pushed away the shiver of nervousness in the pit of my stomach once again as I stood in front of the priestess, but she must have seen something in my eyes, for she paused in front of me, scented oil on her fingertips. I could feel the power of the gods radiating from her as I looked up at her, and felt a sudden rush of fear that she would deny me, find me somehow wanting.

"Are you certain this is decision is of your own free will?" she asked softly before I could say anything, and I nodded quickly. Naamah had blessed me with desire. My path lay at Daniel's side.

"It is," I told her, pulse beating so hard that it thrummed against my eardrums. "Please...."

She nodded, drawing the sweet scented oil across my forehead, and suddenly the power that I'd sensed in her overcame me. It was bright and warm, heat and energy thrumming through my veins, and in my minds eye I saw Naamah standing with the Blessed Elua, embracing him in perfect love. Her smile to me was warm and approving. But there was someone else there, and suddenly the clash of steel that I heard in my dreams was so loud that it overwhelmed everything, and I tasted dust and copper.

Gasping, I stepped back, opening my eyes to the Priestess of Naamah's concerned smile. "So mote it be," she said gently. "You may now offer your service to the gods, brother."

Could I? I'd been so certain of my calling, so certain of my desire for Daniel. Now I felt anything but. Still Daniel was waiting for me... and what else could I do?

I joined him, setting the cage with the dove before me on the altar. "Are you alright?" Daniel whispered, and I nodded, giving him a smile that I hoped looked braver than I felt. Then I unlatched the door to my birdcage, carefully wrapping my hands around the dove's body and drawing it from its cave.

 _Offer your service to the gods,_ the Priestess had said. I closed my eyes, focusing on the delicate form of the bird in my hands. I could hear Daniel murmur his offering to Naamah. I could only hope I was doing the right thing.

"Exalted Naamah," I whispered, then swallowed hard. "Blessed Elua. Please accept my service, according to your will."

I held my dove up towards the statue, and released it. Launching from my hands in a flurry of wingbeats at the same time as Daniel's, both birds winged around the temple and out of the opening in the ceiling, into the sunlit sky.

Then, inexplicably, they returned - mine flying back through the door of its cage, as if I'd never freed it. Daniel's held something long and white in its beak - a huge feather, almost too large for it to fly with, and it came to perch on top of the cage itself.

I stared at the birds mutely, a chill of dread shivering through us. Had Naamah rejected our suit? Despite my own misgivings in my own belonging, I couldn't believe Daniel could be found unworthy.

"What does this mean?" I heard the Dowayne speak behind us, soft and low, but she might as well have shouted. I shuddered, closing my eyes, and felt Daniel's hand come to rest over mine, holding it tight. Surely if we were both found wanting it was my fault, surely - 

"The dedication has been made," the Priestess of Naamah replied, stepping forward, and when I opened my eyes she held hands out to both of us. "By Her power in me, I witness that it is so. Beyond that... if the Gods have seen fit to show us this signal, then we must trust that their wishes will become clear." She smiled at us, helping us to our feet, giving us both the kiss of greeting. "Welcome, Servants of Naamah."

Despite the warmth and surety in her voice, it didn't make me feel any better.

We were taken to the showing, and Daniel and I knelt silently on the cushions in the front row, his hand tight on mine. Part of me wanted to try and reassure him, or for him to reassure me, but what could I say? The showing was beautiful - Simone and one of the female adepts seduced and pleased each other with gentle adoration before our eyes - but I couldn't concentrate on it. Naamah had sent my offering dove back to its cage, and despite the Priestess's words, I couldn't help but think it was because She had found me unworthy.

I left the showing theatre with a heavy heart, that only grew more heavy when I found the Dowayne waiting for us outside with two other figures. The first, a man, I recognized from when Daniel and I had attended the Midwinter masque at Cereus - the Dowayne of House Heliotrope. A woman stood beside him in severe, ash-grey livery, making no attempt to hide the daggers at her belt or the sword at her back. She wore her blond hair cut short like it had recently become fashionable for men to do, and her body was strong and honed like a man of arms. Was there some danger, that the Dowayne of Heliotrope needed protection?

"Benjamin." The Dowayne of Balm took my elbow. "This is Franklinn no Heliotrope, and Sasha Kerouartz, of the Cassiline Brotherhood. They wish a word with you?"

"Yes, my lady." I bowed my head formally, automatic in my training, then glanced to Daniel. "But..."

"I must have words with your cousin," the Dowayne replied, and before I could think of how to question we were both spirited away from each other, and I found myself sitting down in a receiving room with the visitors. Dowayne Franklinn sat fluidly onto one side of a sofa, graceful and at ease. He was a handsome man, broad-shouldered and strong, and younger than many of the Dowaynes I had met previously, the hair at his temples just beginning to gray.

The Cassiline sat stiffly in a chair, and I didn't miss how her eyes scanned the room upon entrance, ever at guard.

What I didn't expect was for the Dowayne to reach over to take my hand, his touch soft and warm. "Thank you for agreeing to speak with me, Benjamin. Do you prefer Benjamin, or Ben?"

"Ben, my lord."

"Then you must call me Frank." At my dumbfounded stare he smiled gently. "After all, we are both sworn to serve Naamah, are we not?"

I nodded mutely.

Frank patted my hand with his free one. "What you experienced at your dedication today is uncommon, but not unheard from. I experienced it myself, which is why I was moved to come see you today. It does not mean, in any way, that your offering to Naamah was found wanting, or that you have been found wanting. In fact, many of House Heliotrope consider you and I the purest form of our canon. But it is Naamah's care to give you this sign, to help you understand what sets you apart from her other servants, so that you can make sure you enter her service with full understanding of what that path will mean for you."

Despite the kindness of his words, it only reinforced the sense of dread I'd felt, the feeling that I didn't belong. I swallowed hard and shook my head. "No. No, I - I know what it will entail. I've dedicated myself to Naamah. I will serve Her, and as long as I remain devoted She will bless me with desire for my patrons."

Frank's smile grew more sympathetic. "You are both correct and mistaken, Ben. If you remain devoted to Her service, your blood will always rise to the headiness of passion when performing Her rites. But for ones such as you and I, our desire is tied to the most sacred of Blessed Elua's edicts. The sweetness of desire and the purity of love will always be inexplicably linked, the one with the other. This is why the canon of Heliotrope is devotion, for love grows from devotion, and in that love our desire for our dear patrons becomes real."

"But I..." the lump in my throat kept me from speaking. I wanted to argue that he was wrong, that Naamah had blessed me with desire. But even my argument proved the truth of his words; I loved my cousin more than anything in the world. That my desire for him was born from that love was undeniable.

"There is another path." The Cassiline spoke finally, her words blunt, with none of Frank's softness or eloquence. "Cassiel recognizes that the purest form of love requires neither desire, nor passion. He's called me to you, like he called me to the Brotherhood as a child. My order will buy your mark, and we will teach you, as He wills, to be the perfect guardian. The Perfect Companion."

_The Perfect Companion._

When she spoke, I felt like I could barely breathe, pulse thundering in my ears. The clash of steel that had so long haunted me rang out, the taste of dust and copper on my tongue. This was the third power that had stood with Naamah and Blessed Elua when the Priestess had blessed me, and I knew with certainty that Sasha spoke the truth. But how could I agree to something that would take me away from everything I knew? How could I agree to something that would _take me away from Daniel?_

"I am sworn to Naamah," I managed to whisper, and Sasha nodded.

"And that is why Cassiel will demand no vows you cannot give. But you will train for seven years, and serve according to his will for five, and then your debt to Naamah and Cassiel will be paid." She must have seen the despair in my eyes, for her voice softened. "It will not be easy. It was not easy for me. But Cassiel does not call us without need. And I will help you."

I managed to nod, turning my gaze back to Frank. "... I can't stay here in Balm, can I?"

"The path ahead of you is your choice," Frank replied. "You can remain here and I will try to council you as I can. But... the life of an adept is a difficult one for us, Ben. Working in a house where you cannot nurture your love for only a few choice patrons...." He stopped, and shook his head. "I was not strong enough for that, and so I cannot wish it on anyone."

I nodded, looking down at my hands. "Can I... speak with my cousin about it?"

"Of course." Frank patted my hand, then rose. "Please feel free to send me your answer at any time."

"To me as well. I hope we meet again." Sasha stood, inclining her head to me, and they both left.

 

~~~

"I don't know what to do," I whispered to Daniel when we were finally given leave to retire alone to the tiny room we slept in, holding him close in my arms. Dinner had, thankfully, been a quiet affair. My cousin looked as grateful for that as I felt.

Daniel's fingers stroked my back, face pressed to my neck, and I felt a shiver go through him. "I could ask to go to Heliotrope with you. We don't have to be parted. Surely the Gods will understand...."

For a moment I wanted nothing more than to agree, to promise that we'd never be parted. I held him tightly, then drew back enough to look at him. "But... what do they want for you, Daniel? Your dove came back, too. Did the Dowayne...?"

He hesitated, brows knitting together. "I... only know a tiny piece of that. And what I do know, I - I can't speak of, not even to you. I'm sorry. I will stay in the service of Naamah, but... if I agree, my mark will be bought by... by someone who will teach me so much. I think my life will be far different than I could have ever imagined."

I felt a swell of love for him, an overwhelming sense that this was what my brilliant cousin was meant for. That staying would mean holding him back. It was both frightening and sobering; Daniel had been the one constant in my life as grew, as we moved between the Thirteen Houses. How could I bear to leave him? But how could I, in all good conscience, bear to stay?

Instead of speaking I kissed him, feeling him tremble against me. His lips parted against mine with a soft, gasped sob, and I stroked my fingers through his hair, making a soothing noise into his mouth. "I love you," I murmured between kisses. "I will always love you. Nothing will ever change that, Daniel. Someday...."

"Don't speak like that," he whispered, tangling his fingers in my hair. "This isn't goodbye. And once our virgin price has been paid we can meet, we can...."

I felt a shiver run through me, and pressed my lips to his to stop his words. "That isn't what the Gods have planned for us," I whispered, and his fingers fell from my hair.

"... then you are to the Cassilines."

I nodded slowly. There was so much I wanted to say of the thoughts and feelings and ideas that boiled turbulent in me. That there was a reason Sasha had been sent to me. That I needed to learn what she spoke of, to follow the path of Cassiel. To be a Perfect Companion. But how could I be certain of anything when there was no way to tell where our lives would take us?

"I'll come back to you," I said softly, holding his gaze. "I know it with a surety, Daniel. This isn't goodbye. I know it."

He let out a shivering sigh and nodded, eyes bright with tears. Then he pressed close again, claiming my mouth. "Stay with me tonight," he whispered. "Let me think of nothing but you."

I nodded, and took the offering of his mouth, tongue dipping between his parted lips, trying to memorize their sweetness. I thought of the showing we'd watched, of the reverence and gentleness with which the adepts had touched each other, slowly rousing each other's passions. I wouldn't find pleasure in the arms of another when I was with the Cassilines. Perhaps I would never do so again. But I could carry my love for Daniel forever.

"Let me worship you," I whispered, starting on the buttons of his clothes. "Let me touch you with the reverence and devotion of love... let me bask in it."

Daniel drew a shivering breath against my lips, starting on my clothes as well. "Naamah's service will lose so much," he whispered, and I smiled, shaking my head.

"But you will lose nothing. I promise."

When we were nude Daniel lay back on the bed, acquiescing to my request. I settled on my haunches between his thighs and for a long moment just let myself look at him, hands stroking slow circles up the outside of his thighs. "You will be the most beautiful of all thirteen houses," I murmured, letting my hands trail over his hip bones, drawing my palms over the dip where his thighs met his belly. 

His cock, already half-hard, twitched, and he shivered visibly under me. "Ben...."

"Just let me touch you," I murmured, and my fingers continued their journey, fingertips teasing his sides as I drew my palms up over his ribs, then back down again. On the cusp of manhood, his chest had yet to grow hair beyond the fuzz of youth, but I drew my fingers over his pectorals anyway, teasing against small nipples, smiling as he whimpered softly.

Finally I moved over him, brushing my lips against his, but pulling back when he arched into me for more. "Shh," I murmured, moving my mouth to his jaw, to the spot on his neck where his pulse raced under my lips. "Let me have this time... please let me worship you."

Daniel stroked his hands into my hair, fingertips rubbing over my scalp, down the back of my neck. "It feels so good," he whispered, and I smiled, continuing the journey of my kisses. I explored each part of his body with my hands and lips, from the curve of his shoulder to his taut calf muscles to the soles of his feet, reveling in scent of him, the taste of his skin. Drinking in his soft whimpers, memorizing the way his body grew flushed and breathless, his cock dark with desire, pressed hard against his stomach. Finally I let myself know him there, too, kissing a path up the tender inside of one thigh, finally nuzzling his sack, breathing deep as I mouthed at the soft skin.

I stroked my hands up to cup his ass, feeling his muscles bunch and tense in an effort to try and stay still. "Ben," he whimpered again, but I didn't respond, instead drawing my tongue up the length of his shaft. The arousal that seeped from the head of his cock was salty sweet and only fueled my desire; I couldn't help but suck him into my mouth, reveling in the feel of his hardness between my lips, the head of his cock rubbing over my tongue as I bobbed on him slowly.

Daniel quivered under me, body taut and trembling, one fist pressed to his mouth to muffle his whimpers. My whole body felt flushed, blood hot with the headiness of my passion for him, the sweetness of my desire and the intensity of my love. My pulse beat against my eardrums like the wings of the dove I'd offered to Naamah; it felt like the warmth and energy I'd experienced during my dedication had returned to me tenfold. Was this Naamah's blessing, to feel this way for him?

No, I decided, groaning around him as I sucked him. This was my love for him, as Frank had said. This was the gift of the Blessed Elua. Inexplicably intertwined and tied to my desire, for always. I tried to swallow around him as the texts had directed, gagging in my inexperience, but not caring. I needed to revel in this, to engrave every part of him into my mind....

Suddenly Daniel's hands tightened in my hair, pulling me off of him instantly. "Stop," he murmured, voice husky, and the darkness in his eyes made me shiver. "Lay back. It's my turn now."

I felt an unexpected rush of want at the command in his voice, and did as he said, watching him as he sat up. There was a scented oil that we used to keep our skin soft and supple, and on occasion for pleasure, and he smoothed some liberally over my skin, smiling as I thrust up eagerly into the grip of his hand with a groan. Despite barely being touched I'd never felt so turned on, and the slick grip of his fingers was familiar and exquisite. "Gods, please...."

But Daniel merely smiled, shifting to kneel between my legs, watching me as he wiped the oil from his fingers between his thighs. Then he pushed my legs further apart and moved to lean over me, guiding my cock to press between his thighs as he leaned in to claim my mouth with his own.

"Oh - !" I pushed up against him instinctively, groaning at the exquisite slide of his tender skin around the shaft of my cock..

"I read about this," he panted against my lips, "Gods, it's better than I thought..." his hips undulated against mine, erection grinding against my stomach. I couldn't help but grab the roundness of his ass in both hands and pull him closer, thrusting between his thighs, the head of my cock pressing into the soft skin behind his sack and we moved together. I felt his muscles tense, thighs pressing harder against me, and I whined helplessly against his lips as I fucked up harder into the tight, slick heat between his thighs. 

"It's perfect," I gasped, drinking in his kisses. "Fuck, Daniel...."

"I'll always be yours," he whispered, rutting against me with breathless desperation. "No matter where we go, no matter - gods - Ben - !"

 

I felt him shudder against me, thighs pressing tighter around my cock again as he spent himself between us, rutting against my stomach with quick jerks of his hips. It was more pleasure than I could imagine, and I let myself go. I closed my eyes and held him tight to me, spilling between his thighs, and for a delirious moment of ecstacy completely forgot that we would ever be parted.

Afterwards we cuddled together, silently giving thanks to each other for pleasure received with soft kisses and gentle touch. "Naamah's service will lose so much without you in it," Daniel whispered again, and I smiled, kissing the sweetness of his lips.

"But you will more than make up for it," I murmured, stroking my fingers through the satin softness of his hair. I thought of his dove, of the huge white feather it had returned with, and what it might mean. Could it perhaps be from a swan, the emblem of the Royal House Courcel? I kept my wonderings to myself. "Whatever this journey is that you cannot speak of to me... you will be brilliant. I know it."

Daniel swallowed hard, and nodded. "I just don't know what I'm going to do without you," he whispered. "I... Ben, I'm scared."

"I'll always be with you," I found myself whispering, moving a hand to press over his heart. "The love that I feel for you is a gift from Blessed Elua. Think of me, and I'll be with you. I promise. And when we meet again in the flesh... I'll do my best to be worthy of you."

"You will never not be worthy," Daniel whispered, and kissed me again.

Neither of us slept much that night, and still the dawn came too soon. But when Daniel and I finally washed and dressed and left the room, my heart was sure, and ready for whatever plan the Gods had for me.

~~~


	2. Chapter 1 - Daniel no Rocaille

On the day when I was dedicated to Naamah, I had no inkling of how my life was truly going to change. I was taken to the Dowayne's office after the showing, puzzled and concerned over what she might need to speak to me about. I grew more puzzled when I was ushered inside and found two men waiting, around the same age as the Dowayne. One sat, with all the poise and nobility of a member of a Great House, though the colours he wore of eggplant and taupe did not betray which. Behind him stood the second man, in the same somber grey as the woman who had left with my cousin, the lamp light glinting off his vambraces. His arms crossed low on his body, hands resting on the hilts of two daggers at his belt, and though he seemed at ease there was something in his poise that suggested he could jump into action at a moment's notice.

"This is the child I spoke of," the Dowayne told him simply, then left the room.

With nothing from the Dowayne to tell me what was expected of me, I sank down in front of him respectfully, kneeling abeyante, head bowed respectfully. "My lord."

For a moment the man was silent, and although I ached to look up and examine him, I held my pose with a discipline that would make even the most scrupulous adept of House Cereus proud.

"You may look at me, child," he said finally, his voice low and kind. "Tell me your name."

"Daniel no Balm, my lord," I responded, looking up at him as bidden. 

"A Yesuite name," he mused, and for a brief moment was a merry twinkle in his eye that put me at ease. " _o Theós eínai o kritís mou,_ " he said, in a tongue I didn't understand, but the next I did. " _La Dowayne mi dice che parli Caerdicci?_ "

Caerdicci was a common enough language in Terre D'Ange; we'd studied the basics in Cereus and Carmilla, and I'd taught myself more in order to read some of the books in the library. " _Sì, mio signore, sono arrivato a capirlo,_ " I responded politely, and he smiled.

" _También entiendes el idioma de nuestros hermanos del oeste, en Aragonia?_ "

I hesitated, trying to pick over the unfamiliar words. "Aragonian? I'm sorry, my lord, I have not studied it."

He nodded as if it mattered little. "The Dowayne says that you are quick of study, Daniel no Balm. Perhaps you can show me how quick. Tell me what you know of me."

For a moment I stared at him in confusion. "I - forgive me, my lord, I have never been acquainted with you before."

"No," he agreed, "But that's not what I asked. I'd like you to tell me what you know of me based on what you've observed today."

It was a strange request, but I found myself considering his words, wanting to give him an answer that would please him. "My lord carries himself as one who was high born, and is attended by a Cassiline, so I believe you must be one of the Great Households, though you have taken care not to wear any colours that would betray which," I started. 

More ideas started to come to mind as I spoke. "You are familiar with my Dowayne, you asked to meet with me in the privacy of her office, so I think you wish this meeting and your presence at House Balm to not be well known. My lord does not bear the look of Kushiel's scions, of House L'Envers or House Shahrizai, and you do not travel armed or bear sword calluses, so I presume you are also not of House d'Aiglemort. The ink stains on your hands and your command of languages marks you as a well-learned man. Perhaps a scion of Shemhazai? Perhaps you are of House Perigeux, or perhaps House Rocaille, who are patrons of the great University in Siovale, near Aragonia. But perhaps you have also studied in Tiberium, because that word you used, _Theós_ is the Hellenic word for God."

The man said nothing to affirm or deny my words, but it seemed as though his smile widened slightly. "Anything else?"

Feeling very much like I wanted to impress him, I thought for a moment, on what I knew of House Rocaille - things I had observed from patrons, overheard or read. "Queen Evangeline's sister is married to the Duc de Rocaille, so I should assume close ties with House Courcel. Perhaps that is where my Dowayne sent word, when my dedication to Naamah was blessed with a symbol of the royal house. It is not something that warrants Royal attention, but perhaps... perhaps the Dowayne knew you would take interest. Perhaps you were a patron of House Balm, in the past? The stiffness in your movement - "

"That's enough," the man said gently, as the Cassiline standing behind him chuckled.

"He has you made, Harold," he said, voice far warmer than I would have expected from what I'd heard of the rigid, celibate Cassilines.

"Hush, Reese," The man said, glancing back at him with a warm familiarity in his smile despite his words. Then he regarded me again. "You are all the Dowayne has said, and I think more than she could suppose, though I shall clearly have to teach you prudence."

"My lord?"

"You were correct in many things," he told me, and I caught a glimpse of that twinkle in his eye. "I am Harold de Rocaille, and nephew to the Queen. And I believe it would be folly to ignore the sign that has been sent to us. If it is your will to serve the Queen and House Courcel, then I will buy your marque, and you will become my ward."

The idea seemed ludicrous to me. "My lord, I - I am a servant of Naamah."

"Yes," Lord Rocaille agreed, "and oftimes there are doors that can open for a servant of Naamah that could not be opened by another. I would have you continue to learn Naamah's arts, and to learn mine as well. I think that perhaps you would welcome the challenge to excel at both."

I had seen the face of Naamah in my dedication, felt the warmth of her blessing for my path. But I had felt more than that - as the Priestess of Naamah had placed her hands on me, it felt for one brief moment of brilliance that the mysteries of the universe - everything that I had sought after as I read the texts of Gentian House, every book I could lay my hands on in Cereus and Carmilla and Balm - had become clear to me.

I wanted that.

"And how will you explain a servant of Naamah as your ward?" I asked, and for a long moment Lord Rocaille regarded me, and a soft sadness seemed to infuse his features.

"There was a man I once called consort, before his death. He frequented your court. No one would disbelieve that an adept would choose him to father their child, or question me for taking a ward of his son, no matter what path that boy had chosen." A wry smile twisted his lips. "You look enough like him that there may be some truth in it. You certainly bear the boon and folly of a scion of Shemhazai."

"And my cousin?"

The smile faded from Lord Rocaille's lips. "He cannot know of what I teach you, and I cannot teach you both."

How could I go with him and leave Ben behind? The horror I felt at such a thought must have shown on my face, for Lord Rocaille leaned forward, his voice gentle. "Think on it, child. When you decide, the Dowayne can send word to me."

Of course I went. With Ben bound for the Cassilines, there was nothing to hold me to House Balm. Within days I was traveling to the manor where Lord Rocaille took residence, to settle in as his ward. It was difficult, changing my mindset from _servant_ to _ward of a peer of the realm_ , but Lord Rocaille seemed to intuitively understand how to help me get my footing, slowly introducing me to the life of the Court with care.

I awoke one morning to find that neither he nor Reese had returned from their trip to the palace the evening before, but had sent a messenger to the household for me, bearing a letter and a bundle. New clothes, I discovered, in the green and gray of house Rocaille. 

_Your lessons begin today,_ read Lord Rocaille's neat script. _The messenger will bring you to me. Speak little, and observe. I will take care of you._

This was how I found myself at the Royal Palace in the City of Elua for the first time, being ushered through a sprawling collection of rooms and grand hallways until I could barely remember from which I came. My only warning that I had reached my destination was the presence of Reese outside a set of grand double doors - he smiled when he saw me, inclining his head, then opened the door and followed me inside.

The library that stretched out in front of me was grander than anything I could ever have imagined, and only my childhood of etiquette training prevented me from staring around the room with open wonder. Lord Rocaille smiled when he saw me; across the table from him sat a boy and a girl around my age with blue-black hair and ivory skin, richly dressed.

"May I present my new ward, Daniel no Rocaille," Lord Rocaille said to them, inclining his head, and I took his queue to bow low, just barely resisting the ingrained urge to kneel abeyante. "Daniel, this is the Dauphin, Prince Jonathan de la Courcel, grandson to the Queen, and Princess Anna. They've just returned from L'Agnace. The Dauphin has kindly given me leave to include you in our tutoring sessions."

"Hopefully he'll be nicer to me with someone else to pick on," the Dauphin - Prince Jonathan - said, so immediately informal that I didn't know how to respond. 

"Be nice," the princess said, elbowing her brother in the side.

"I am nice!" The Prince tilted his head to one side, grinning as he regarded me. "He's cute. Good work, Uncle Harold." He pulled out the chair beside him and patted it. "Come sit, near-cousin."

I moved obediently, despite being completely disarmed by what he'd called me. The title that only my most beloved had ever used for me - I was unprepared for either the loneliness or the strange thrill of excitement it sent through me. Prince Jonathan was breathtakingly beautiful, more than any adept I'd ever seen, even in house Carmilla, and the only way I could keep even half my wits around me was to focus entirely on what Lord Rocaille taught us.

It wasn't until Lord Rocaille and I returned to his estate that night that it truly sunk in that I had just become schoolmates with the future king of Terre D'Ange.

~~~


	3. Chapter 3

"Will you tell me about the Court of the Night Blooming Flowers?"

The question was one I had been expecting from my Prince for some time. Lord Rocaille had taught us many things together - things I'd expected, like politics, history, and language, as well as many things I hadn't expected, such as how to observe and reason, to read the things in people that went unsaid. If it seemed strange to me that the children of House Courcel would care to learn such things, it wasn't my place to say. I only knew that John seemed more engaged by it than anything else we'd learned, and perhaps that was all that mattered.

Of the Court of the Night Blooming Flowers, Lord Rocaille had never spoken. Perhaps he wanted to downplay the reality of the other half of my training; whenever he left the City of Elua, whether it be with the Royal Family or otherwise, I would stay behind for training in one of the thirteen houses. And since I certainly had no need for tutelage, I assumed at some point someone else would speak of it to John and Anna. If that person was to be me, well... I suppose that was how it would be.

I smiled at John. "Of course. You'll be sixteen soon, won't you?" John was a little over a year my elder, but somehow we had become firm friends, if only in the privacy of the Library. It might not have happened if it were left to me alone. I, being raised in the night court, was taught deferrance, rank, respect, and regardless of the status man who had taken me as ward, I was still naught but a servant of Naamah, and not even a free D'Angeline. But my Prince had been unrelenting, insisting on casual familiarity between us, wearing me down with as much skill as an adept of Balm calming a turbulent patron.

John gave a soft laugh, though he looked away as he did; even to one without the training we had undertaken, his discomfort would have been obvious. "Yes. I see the Night Court has not forgotten the traditions of House Courcel."

"It is considered the highest honor to serve the Noble Houses, especially in such matters," I responded, then laid a hand on his arm. "But it is not of Naamah to ply our trade with those unwilling. If you need more time, John...."

"Tell me about the houses," he said again, not answering my question. "More than what everyone knows of mirth and money. You've spent time in all of them, haven't you?"

"Many," I replied. Lord Rocaille and I had set aside those that would not further my tutelage: I'd learned enough of modesty in Cereus to avoid spending time in Alyssum, and not suiting the canon of Jasmine, there was little they could teach me that I had not already learned. The skills of Gentian, too, were similar to Balm, though I hoped one day I would be afforded the time and freedom to truly study their secrets of mysticism, beyond what I had read in my youth. I had found far more value from Eglantine than I could have ever imagined; while I played the instruments I had learned with the same studious dedication I did everything else, I had never been an artist. But the creative house held an unexpected font of obscure lore and learning, and when Lord Rocaille returned to the City of Elua I was heartbroken to leave it.

Orchis I had yet to spend time in, and wondered if I could learn of the mirth that came so naturally to their adepts. Of Mandrake and Valerian houses, I knew little, and awaited my teaching there with more than a little trepidation.

I knew what John was truly asking, and knew it would do him a disservice if I were to give him a definitive answer. "In truth, my lord, you would find pleasure in many of the houses," I replied, correcting myself at his little frown. "John. But I think...." I paused, considering all I had come to know of his temperment, of the things that lit his eyes with excitement. 

"Cereus would leave you unsatisfied," I said finally, "and Carmilla, and I beg my Houses' forgiveness for saying so. For subsequent assignations, you may enjoy them very much. But on your first visit to the Night Court I believe you would leave feeling that you had pressed your will as Dauphin on an adept of Cereus, and objectified Carmilla. Dahlia, too - such propriety would not suit my lord's temperament, nor the modesty of Alyssum. I think in your heart you desire a lover who will speak to you as we speak now, away from the propriety of the court. You may find such in Orchis, with their gaiety, or perhaps Balm, where the adepts take care to truly understand the heart and burdens of their patrons. Heliotrope, also, will welcome you like a lover most dear, cherished for your true self. From what I know of you, these are the houses you should consider."

John watched me as I spoke, the startling green of his eyes the only hint of the Cruinthe in the bloodline of house Courcel. "And what of your house, near-cousin?" he said softly, and I felt my heart stop.

For all I had studied of people - of emotions and motivations and tells - this had somehow passed me by completely. But with his simple admission, I could see it clearly; the future King of Terre D'Ange wished to woo me, and to do so as simply no more than a boy in love.

I felt my skin heat at the realization, and for a moment I wanted it more than anything. I had not found pleasure with another since Ben and I were parted, and even if I'd wanted to, such explorations were forbidden among the apprentices of the Night Court. Ben and I would never have been allowed to do what we did together, I'd come to realize, had the Dowayne of Balm not assumed that the shared blood between us would keep us from such things. But John deserved far more than a half-trained adolescent fumble.

"I must abjure the touch of another in passion until my own debut at sixteen," I said softly. "The purity of my service and the price that it fetches will begin to establish my reputation as a servant of Naamah. And if you will forgive me for saying so, my lord, to give you a virgin at your first assignation would be a disservice to you."

"I suppose," he murmured, looking out into the library. "Still, I wish you could come with me."

"I'm sure that every young member of every noble house in the city will vie for the pleasure of keeping you company on your first night in the Night Court," I said, hoping to reassure him, and John gave a small, sad smile.

"They will," he said, "And of many, it may be the only company I can ever trust them for."

"Surely that can't be the case," I said gently, nearly saying it in gest until I saw the look in his eyes.

"It will be," he said, holding my gaze seriously, "until I can I can discover who killed my Mother."

It was then that I began to understand, somewhat, the nature of the life that Blessed Elua had called me to. That the death of Queen Evangeline's only child was a tragedy was beyond question - a centuries old bridge in rural Caerdicca Unitas had given way when the royal delegation was crossing on a diplomatic mission, killing eight - including the man Lord Rocaille had called consort and named my father. More, like Lord Rocaille, were left with injuries they would never fully recover from. 

A tragic accident, except perhaps not - already my mind was playing through things that I'd learned, analyzing connections as Lord Rocaille had told us. Princess Roxanne had been on a journey to Lucca, rumored to be near to accepting an offer of marriage - John's father had been a love match and Consort only, and had died tragically in the last wave of the Great Plague. If Lucca had sought her hand, clearly others had too among the Caerdicca city-states - John had a standing offer of marriage to a high-ranked noble daughter in nearly every city.

Would a rival act to cause such a tragedy to prevent another city-state from allying with Terre D'Ange? And if they had, who could have known the Princess's route or destination, and had access to compromise the bridge? Someone close to her, clearly. Someone at court?

"Now you understand," John said softly, and I nodded. Of course he would need to know, to avoid the same end. And of course Lord Rocaille would do everything to find out, after the death of his consort.

"I'm sorry," I said, resting a hand on his arm. "I truly am, John. If there is anything I can do to help you...."

He gave the smallest nod, his grim smile softening. "I know. Uncle Harold has chosen wisely in you. I just wish...." his voice trailed off, looking out into the library wistfully, and it made my heart twist.

"John?"

"Tell me truthfully," he said softly, eyes dark and sorrowful as they turned back to mine. "If we were not scions of Naamah and Elua, if we were simply peers, friends... would you accept my suit, Daniel?"

I ought to have said no. But John, among all others, never failed to disarm me. "Yes," I whispered. "Yes, I would."

John smiled then, brilliant and bright as the sun, and in that smile I finally understood the canon of Orchis - that love and pleasure should be for the sake of joy. 

"Then perhaps when you have leave to be courted, you will allow me. I will wait for your debut, I will wait until you are a free D'Angeline - however you wish. Say the word, and I will wait for you." He spoke with such earnestness, and I felt my heart twist achingly, longing. When had I fallen in love with him, my bright, brilliant friend? Perhaps I had always loved him.

"Such a thing would not be wise for either of us, my lord," I whispered.

"Then you will be my greatest folly," he murmured, reaching a hand to stroke my jaw, smiling when I - despite myself - leaned into it.

"My lord - " I tried weakly, drawing a soft gasp as his thumb brushed my bottom lip.

"I'd very much like my first kiss to follow the precept of Blessed Elua, even if I may not," he said quietly. "... may I?"

How could I say no when I so badly wanted it, too? I managed the smallest nod, leaning into him, eyes falling closed as John brought our lips together.

He kissed as one who has seen it happen all his life and longed for it - a soft, sweet caress at first, then longer, passion quickly taking free reign as he got the lay of it. And I - I encouraged him, lips parting eagerly to his, inviting him in with a flick of the tongue, barely holding back a moan as his fingers slid into my hair to pull me closer.

Too soon I heard an intentional clearing of the throat, and pulled back, flushing darkly. "Lord Rocaille - "

"Please take a care not to harass my ward, nephew," Lord Rocaille said to John before I could apologize, a bemused smile on his face, to which John grinned.

"I will be the very picture of propriety, my dear uncle."

~~~

"Be careful with the Prince," Lord Rocaille said to me later that night when we dined in his apartments, alone save for Reese, who always dined with us like a peer of the realm.

I felt my cheeks heat again, and looked down. "I'm sorry, Lord Rocaille, I know it's not my place - "

"And I know well how my nephew can be. And that it was always a possibility that he would grow attached to you." His smile, again, was bemused. "For my part, I'm sorry. I thought it best if you could understand the man I will ask you to serve." 

"The man Elua has asked me to serve," I reminded him gently, though under the table, my fingers twisted the cloth napkin. "And I do not think you chose unwisely. I would do anything you asked me to, if it were for him."

"Be careful what you promise," Lord Rocaille replied, a mixture of weariness and sadness suddenly infusing his features. "There is much I have yet to teach you of the court. When you come of age - "

"Then I will ply my skills in the service of Naamah to the peers of the realm, and gain their trust so that I can help you find out who killed the Princess."

Lord Rocaille froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. Across the table, Reese started to chuckle quietly, which earned him a hard look. "Hush, you."

"I told you you've trained him too well," Reese said, smirking, and I felt a swell of pride.

"But I clearly haven't broken you of the need to show off," Lord Rocaille said with a frown, and I felt a rush of shame.

"Forgive me, my lord. I have. I wouldn't speak such to anyone else, even Jo - the Prince. All my loyalty belongs to you, and Elua, and I - "

"I know, child." Lord Rocaille smiled gently. "Forgive my testiness. In truth, I am pleased to see that you've worked it out. It's simply a sensitive subject for me."

I nodded. "Because Lord de Corbault - because my father died with her."

Lord Rocaille gave a small, stiff nod. "It is not a game you should enter into lightly," he said softly. "You have a year until your debut. I will begin to introduce you to the peers of the realm, now, so that if you choose, you may join me in this. If not, you are welcome to take assignations purely to make your marque. I will teach you either way."

"I'll help you," I said immediately, and he smiled.

"Answer that question again in a year, my dear," he said again, and would speak no more of it that night.

~~~


	4. Chapter 4

Despite Lord Rocaille's assertion that I need not enter into his games for a year, part of me couldn't help it. Previously I had only to consider the arts of Naamah when I was exposed to the members of the court he entertained, considering what kind of manner the person would respond to, what they might be like in the bedchamber. For those who would value a quick wit and intellect, I carefully restrained my displays to current events, court gossip and the arts. It was easy to bank down the need to show off when there were only two people in the world who I truly cared about knowing the extent of my abilities.

John went to Orchis House on his sixteenth birthday. It was the house I'd been quietly certain he'd pick, and felt pleased with myself for my small triumph. But it was only one of many things of the day to consider in my memory - I had only accompanied Lord Rocaille to such a public event on a few occurrences, and with my discovery of his plans fresh in my mind it coloured every interaction and more - quietly observing who interacted with who and the manor of their interaction, cataloging names and faces and trying to pick significant words amongst the sea of flirting and gaiety. To Lord Rocaille's interactions I paid more attention, too, speaking little unless I was directly engaged, but smiling and reacting appropriately as I paid attention to who he subtly influenced in conversation and how he curried favor with the skills he was trying to pass along to us.

We stayed long after John and his small retinue of high-ranking young nobles had departed for the Night Court, until the chill in the air started to drive people inside or away. The night had been so mentally stimulating that I hadn't realized my own exhaustion until my bad leg started to ache and I almost tripped over a paving stone. Immediately Reese was at my side, steadying me, giving me that wry smile, blue-grey eyes glittering.

"Time to get you both home, I think," he murmured, and at a soft word from him Lord Rocaille gave his goodbyes, his movements likewise stiff with fatigue.

"What have you learned tonight?" he asked when we'd returned to his palace apartments, and for a long moment I considered my response, sorting through the information I'd absorbed and further cataloguing it.

"That John remains unbetrothed is a topic on many people's minds, and not just because it's his birthday. Queen Evangeline shows no sign of ailing, of course, but there is some concern about securing the line of succession, and more about the political advantages of a betrothal. There is much uncertainty in our relationship with the Caerdicca Unitas... I would imagine that the Little Court in La Serenissima has been waning in influence, especially considering the state of the city after the Great Plague. Strengthening our ties through marriage was perhaps already overdue when... when Princess Roxanne died."

Lord Rocaille gave a soft hum that I had come to learn meant he was pleased. "Is that the prevailing sentiment?"

"The most universal. There are of course those who would raise the status of their own households through a marriage, or just through consorting with him, but since he's shown no sign of bestowing any favors in the court, no one is openly expressing more than a distant hope."

Lord Rocaille gave a small nod, smiling. "Indeed. And how do you think you were received, my young ward?"

That too I had taken notice of - the looks people gave me, who conversed about me, details and words overheard when people thought I was not listening. The way those Lord Rocaille had engaged had judged me. "A few question why you are still training me in Naamah's way when I could be a peer of the realm. A few think that I would have the right to petition for my father's holding and title, and that you keep me close to control me. Many more..." I hesitated, feeling my face heat, though I wasn't sure if it was through self-consciousness or delight. "Many more approve of my path, and wonder at the date of my debut."

"Is that still what you want? They're not incorrect, Daniel. If you simply wanted to be a courtier - "

"I'm devoted to Naamah, my lord," I replied without hesitation. "I will not stray from that path, nor do I desire to."

Lord Rocaille nodded, smiling. "Then we have a year to tend the seeds of interest that I have planted to lead to your debut."

~~~

By the time I was a few weeks shy of my sixteenth birthday, Lord Rocaille had a stack of offers, most of which he'd discarded. He'd had four years since the death of the Princess to eliminate the possibility of involvement from many of the court, and several more were merely what he referred to as "virginity hunters" - people who would not care to form a relationship with me past my first assignation. What remained were the few that Lord Rocaille hadn't managed to get close to himself.

"Piers Eltoin and Niels de Mereliot," Lord Rocaille said to me one night. "I've a mind to allow them to compete for your price, if you're agreeable to either."

Niels I'd found interesting - the oldest child of the Lady of Marsilikos, he would never inherit Marsilikos from his mother as his three sisters and two nieces lived. He'd petitioned for the Princess's hand in marriage before her death, I wondered if he'd never married in the hope of some political allegiance. He was certainly beautiful, and charming enough.

Piers Eltoin was younger, and stood to inherit his holding in Camlach from his ailing father. He'd married into minor nobility from Lucca shortly after the death of the Princess. I'd found him rather dry and uninspiring, though he well could be hiding behind the stereotypical belief that Camaelines thought only with their swords. That was a mystery worth unravelling.

Already I was assessing each man through my experience with him, judging his desires, considering my own approach. "I am agreeable."

Lord Rocaille nodded, satisfied. "Then I will continue the arrangements."

It was, I had to admit, more than a little thrilling in many ways. I ached to put my training to work - the physical arts of Naamah, of course, but also the emotional ones, and the greater skills that I had learned from Lord Rocaille's hand. Even though I was half-aroused when I retired to bed at night, I resisted the urge to find pleasure, enjoying the ache of self denial and wondering what it might finally be like to serve.

I awoke in the dark, to the sound of muffled argument.

Slipping into my bed-jacket, I crossed my small room silently and pressed my ear to the door. 

"Uncle, you cannot deny me this!!"

 _John._ My pulse, slow from sleep, jumped straight into a gallop.

"You know very well why I must."

"Why? Every other peer in the realm can throw their purses at his feet, I hear them talk about it! Why not me?"

"Because you're the dauphin, John."

"Then I'll press my authority!"

"And you'll ruin everything I've spent years building, and ruin any chance of his service being successful! Do you want that?"

There was silence for a long moment, followed by a faint, choked noise. "... but I love him." 

Lord Rocaille gave a soft, sympathetic murmur. "I know, nephew. And I'm sorry for my part in that. But that is all the more reason why I cannot allow what you ask."

My heart had leapt into my throat at John's words, but now my mind took over. Of course, of course John would have feelings for me. It was the simplest of deductions, now that I thought to examine him. He'd felt isolated and lonely when Lord Rocaille had brought me to him. And I'd certainly never discouraged his company, though after the first kiss that we'd shared he'd made no overt move for more. But that he would grow attached to me was without doubt.

"I wish you wouldn't make him do this," I heard John murmur on the other side of the door. "He can't want to do this."

"Daniel has made his decision," Lord Rocaille replied, just as quietly. "And if there were any doubt in my mind that the decision was not made truly, I would have called a halt to this a very long time ago."

"Then just let me have this. Please. Let me start his marque. Nobody needs to know - "

Letting out a soft breath, I opened my bedroom door and slipped out.

Both men glanced over to me, Lord Rocaille with a apologetic smile. John's eyes moved back down to the rug immediately, lips twisting unhappily.

"I'm sorry to have woken you," Lord Rocaille said, and I shook my head, moving to where John stood leaning back on the edge of a table, taking one of his hands in mine.

"John...."

"You don't want this, do you?" His voice was soft, but his words were tinged with desperation. "Please... I promise I'll take care of you. I'll pay your indenture to Naamah. Please, Daniel, I - "

"I can't allow that, and neither can you," I said softly, heart aching. "I'm sorry, John. There is far too much unrest while you remain unmarried. Showing such favor to a servant of Naamah would undermine confidence. You know that."

His lips pressed more tightly together, and through our clasped hands, I felt him shudder. "I know," he whispered harshly. "I want to decree it anyway. No one would dare contract you if you were my consort, I - I...."

"But you won't," I murmured, and John closed his eyes. I covered the back of his hand with my free one, stroking gently. "We have duty to more than ourselves, you and I."

John turned his gaze to me, eyes bright. "How can you say these things and pretend your heart isn't breaking?" he whispered, and I felt it twist painfully at his sorrow. Holding his hand tighter, I stepped into him, sliding my free hand into his hair and drawing his face down to press his forehead to mine.

"It remains whole because I do this for you," I whispered. "My oath is to Naamah, but my purpose is yours. My... my heart is yours, John. So I cannot allow myself to ignore what the Gods have called me to. Not when your safety could be at stake. Please understand...."

Seated behind us, Lord Rocaille sighed. "I cannot allow you to bid for his virginity," he said simply. "It's far too powerful a tool. But afterwards...."

John shot him a surprised look. "Really?"

"If you still want me," I murmured, longing all the more.

John gave an incredulous laugh, drawing me close, pressing a kiss to my forehead, my hair. "How could I not want you? Of course I do. Draw up a contract, I'll pay anything you wish, and I'll leave such an offering to Naamah - "

"It's not so easy as that," Lord Rocaille said. "And you cannot shower him with offerings. If you would love him, you must not love only him. Sow your favors and your offerings widely and openly among the servants of Naamah, and any assignation you have with my ward will be - and must be - merely more of the same."

"I've been to Orchis house a few times," John tried to argue, pouting. "You're saying I might as well serve Naamah myself."

I looked up at him worriedly. "If you don't desire it..."

John's gaze dropped. "I... it was good. I just..." again he met my gaze, pleading in his eyes. "I didn't love them. I know I will never be free to marry for love, and I've always been prepared for that. But I... I don't know if I can love without love."

"Go to Balm, then," I said softly. "The worship of Naamah does not force intimacy unwilling. The adepts will soothe your heart. Or go to Gentian, and speak of your dreams and the mysteries of the world. The servants of Naamah will keep the details of your assignations in sacred confidence."

"It's the least I can do for you," he whispered, and kissed me.

I made no move to stop him - how could I, when I so badly wanted it, too? My lips parted eagerly, drawing him in, and yet I felt him tremble, could feel his conflict and heartache as clearly as the pleasure of his lips. Stroking my fingers up into his hair, I engaged the compassion of Balm, soothing him with gentle touch until he finally calmed, relaxing against me with a soft sigh.

"Highness, you should go now." Even trained as I was to observe and used to Reese's unobtrusive presence, his voice at the door of the small sitting room made me jump.

John nodded, thumb brushing my bottom lip briefly to my bottom lip. "I'll to Balm tomorrow night," he told me. "And the others. And when Uncle Harold allows...."

I nodded, finally smiling at the thought, feeling my heart leap with happiness. John must have liked what he saw there, for he smiled as well, sweet and easy.

"I'll be waiting," I said softly, and he smiled and left. Then I looked to Lord Rocaille. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...."

He shook his head. "As I said, I knew it was always a possibility. Are you confident it will not affect your service?"

"All of my patrons will always believe they are the most desirable thing in my world," I assured him. And for one of them, it would be true. "My oaths to Naamah are sacred, my lord."

"Then I trust you," he replied, and we spoke no more of it.

~~~

 

In the end it was the Camaeline who won me, Piers Eltoin, for a sum quite befitting the virgin price of someone trained at multiple houses in the night court. I was somewhat surprised that Lord Rocaille had managed to drive the bidding so high, and that he'd stayed in competition - he hadn't struck me as one of extravagant means. Still, when the day arrived he sent an unmarked coach far finer than I'd expected, and Reese and I rode out in silence.

Had the assignation not been my first it would not have been particularly remarkable, one way or the other. Piers' greatest desire in the moment was clearly to deflower me, and I drew from the canon of Cereus from my youth, easing into the role of one fragile and corruptible with satisfying ease. There was little finesse to his touch, and much pent up desire, and though he was rough with eagerness when he took me I was prepared. I managed to give myself over to it completely within the role that I'd chosen, whimpering wonderments at his size and the sensation of finally having a man inside me. It wasn't even entirely a farce; after so long waiting it was easy to get caught up in his passion, gasping out pleasure against his mouth at the rush of sensation that came with each stuttered push of his cock.

It was over far too soon for me to find my own pleasure, but after spending himself he dropped to take me in his mouth with surprising dedication. He worked his fingers inside me with skill and intent until he'd drawn me to the peaks of pleasure, swallowing my seed down eagerly as I spilled down his throat.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you more pleasure," Piers murmured after as he held me close. "It's.. been too long. My wife...."

My immediate thought was to question why he hadn't availed himself of the night court, but I held back my thoughts as I pulled him into a gentle kiss. "My lord's passion is beautiful," I murmured. "And your dedication was wonderful. Naamah is pleased. It was so wonderful, for my first time."

"I didn't hurt you?" he asked anxiously, and I smiled again, stroking his hair.

"I will still feel my lord's passion tomorrow," I replied softly, letting a hint of suggestiveness seep into my voice. "But no... you did not hurt me. You were wonderful."

Piers groaned softly, claiming my mouth again, and as we kissed I felt him begin to stir again, hardening against my thigh. "You precious, beautiful boy," he whispered, hands hungry on my body. "You were worth every penny and more. Let me find pleasure in you again. Just between your thighs, I won't make you take me again. Please...."

"I'd like that very much," I whispered, and pulled him closer.

He plied me with more praise when his passions were finally sated, promising to contract me again. His compliments seemed a little over-fervent, and I puzzled at why, quite certain that my performance had indeed pleased him.

Then he rose, pulling on the robe that had been left on the dressing table, starting for the door. "My man will show you out when you are ready, my dear. Thank you again."

I felt my stomach lurch, and spoke before I could think to consider my words. "My lord, it is customary that you give an offering to Naamah, if you were indeed pleased with my service...."

Piers stopped at the door, brows knitting in anguish. "I know," he said softly, "And you must forgive me for it, my darling. I swear to the gods I will make thrice the offering next time. I... am afraid I became too eager at the thought of having you and bid too high. My wife is far more concerned with her purse strings than the husband they bought."

A corner of my mind catalogued the unexpected revelation and hungered for more. The rest of me gave over easily to disappointment, and I lowered my head, feeling my eyes burn with tears. "If you found me wanting, my lord, please say so, so that I can do better...."

"No! No, no my sweet boy..." Piers dropped to his knees in front of the bed where I sat, catching both of my hands in his. "Forgive me. It is I who've failed you."

I held back a reply, not meeting his gaze, sniffling a shivering breath, and he gave a soft, helpless moan. "Oh god, Daniel, please don't cry. I promise it's me. I have a problem with money, you see. That's why I can't go to the Night Court, the lure of Byrony is too strong, the game..." a soft, helpless laugh. "I've landed myself in far too much trouble with it. But I promise I'll make it up to you. A favor, now, later, any time you wish, I'm in your debt. And thrice the offering next time. On my word and honor."

It was all I would get from him without overplaying my hand, and certainly enough to interest Lord Rocaille. I drew a deep breath and wiped my eyes. "As long as my lord is pleased with me...."

"I am, I am, my dear boy." Piers rose, pressing a kiss to each of my eyelids. "I promise."

~~~

Lord Rocaille listened intently when I relayed what Piers had unwittingly disclosed to me, and while his expression remained schooled, I could see the spark of deep interest in his eyes. "You've done well," he said finally, and I felt a rush of pride, unexpectedly far more satisfying than any patron gift could have been. "I'd expected there might be something like that, but if his wife and her family truly hold the purse strings... you've done well, Daniel. Thank you. Will he ask for you again? And will you accept?"

I felt another rush of pride. "I'm certain of that, my lord. It will be easy to work my way into his confidence. And he will honor his debt. And I would be pleased to contract with him."

Lord Rocaille nodded. "Good. I'm only sorry it came at such a cost for you. Truly, he has done you a slight."

It was still a disappointment, but I shook my head. "He will keep his word. I have plenty of time to earn my marque."

"Still, it is a disappointment. I'd already made an appointment with the marquist. Perhaps...." he considered me for a long moment. "How do you feel? Would you like another assignation sooner rather than later?"

"I'm alright," I told him truthfully - servants of Naamah are made to excel in her arts, and Balm had trained me in assessing my own wellness. "I could accept one tomorrow, if you wish. But perhaps I should wait a few days, for propriety's sake."

"Understood," Lord Rocaille said with a soft smile. "I will arrange it, then." 

~~~


	5. Chapter 5

I later found out that John had gone to Orchis the day of my first assignation, gotten merrily drunk and paid for two adepts at once, plus more for the young nobles he'd taken with him. I wondered if he might, if given the opportunity, have done so for his guard as well.

"I'm fairly certain of your heart," Lord Rocaille told me at breakfast, "but the last thing I want is for you to feel obligated to anything. If you wish to see John outside of an assignation, I will arrange for it. If you don't want to see him at all I will handle that as well."

I felt my ears heat, looking down at my tea. "I would like to see him," I said softly. "His affections are not one-sided, my lord. But... I am still pledged to Naamah. It should be as you have said. He must be my patron, if he desires me."

I didn't see John for three days, and I couldn't help but worry. Having a session in the library without him seemed strange and lonely despite Anna's presence, and it was hard not to worry that he, despite his words, had discovered he couldn't forgive me for taking an assignation that wasn't with him. 

On the third day he was waiting in the library, expression shifting into a smile when he saw me, undeniably adoring, and I gave a sigh of relief. "Hello, John."

Still smiling, he stood, pulling me into a hug, a kiss of greeting. "I'm sorry I missed yesterday's lesson," he murmured, then gave a wry smile. "I was goaded into a drinking contest at Orchis. It... took a few days to recover from."

"I'm sure as hell staying clear from Orchis, then," Anna muttered from where she lounged at the table, nearly sixteen herself.

Lord Rocaille chuckled. "I daresay you would resist such goading much better than your brother."

"Hey!"

"Speaking of the night court, I have a small volume for you to study in preparation for your birthday, Anna. As for the two of you..." Lord Rocaille removed a rolled piece of paper from his case, offering it to John. "I'll need you to sign this. I trust it will be acceptable to you."

John's brows knit in confusion. "What is it?"

Lord Rocaille said nothing, but inclined his head toward me with a pointed look.

Immediately John drew a soft gasp, and I watched him actually blush, delight in his features. "Really? When, now?"

"Whenever you would both like, as long as it's discreet."

"It can be discreet now, we can take the back passages, I promise." He looked to me. "If that's okay with you? It doesn't have to be now. Only, we'll have the whole day...."

"Gross," Anna muttered, though there was a smile in her voice.

How could I say no to such eager adoration? I felt my own face heat, smiling. "I'd like that very much, John."

He smiled, achingly sweet. In moments he'd signed the contract without barely reading it, and was taking me away through the locked back passages of the palace to his suite, alone in his rooms with the guards safely outside.

I half expected him to pull me close immediately, but John was suddenly hesitant, turning to me, anxious. I realized that I'd never thought to assess what kind of lover I should be with him, and then immediately realized that there was no place here for that. What John needed was me - the boy he'd grown up with for the past few years.

The thought of not hiding behind my masks of skill and training was a little terrifying. And yet, at the same time... that's what I needed, too.

"You do want this, don't you?" he asked, brows knitting deeper. "You're not just doing this because I asked for it?"

I could understand his anxiety, my own sharp but somehow energizing. I swallowed, feeling hot and slightly dizzy. "John, I... I've wanted it since the first day you kissed me in the library. Perhaps before that. I... I'm always happiest when I'm with you."

His face lit up at my words, relief and adoration plain in his expression. Then he finally stepped into me, reaching up to cup my face, fingers stroking my cheek, and for a moment just gazed at me. I leaned into his touch, craving more but for now letting him take the lead, only turning my face to nuzzle his palm in breathless anticipation.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, then finally, finally brought his lips to mine.

In the year since we'd first kissed John had become completely comfortable in his own skin, I realized immediately, his kisses confident and longing. It was wonderful, overwhelming me with desire for him, and I clung to his shoulders as I arched closer, lips parting to the press of his tongue with a whimper. I hadn't realized before how badly I'd wanted this, _needed_ this, to feel so loved and cherished, to feel so much love in return.

"I always wanted it to be you," John whispered between kisses, hands sliding restlessly over my back. "Every time I went to Orchis, everyone I kissed, Daniel, gods...."

"I'll kiss you whenever you wish," I whispered, and it wasn't even a lie. If the desire of Naamah's service was sweet, this was a hundred times more so, every part of my body aching to be touched, kissed, caressed. I'd never felt to simultaneously shy and wanton. "Please take me to bed, John. We can talk after."

"Oh yes," he groaned, and caught my hand, drawing me deeper into his rooms, to his bedroom.

There was little restraint left in either of us. My teachers would have been ashamed of my work, but at the moment I didn't care. Nothing mattered more than having John naked against me, removing the barriers between us, and soon enough I was pulling him back onto the bed on top of me, pulling his mouth to mine for desperate, heated kisses.

I'd reached my full height that year, but John was still taller, his body filled out to manhood, shoulders broad and strong, the weight of him over me delightful and even more arousing. He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, even during my time in Camellia, and I told him so between kisses, wrapping my thighs up around his waist to pull him closer, our cocks trapped pressed between us, hot and hard.

John laughed breathlessly at my words, lavishing kisses on my jaw, sucking at my throat. "Me? God, Daniel, you... this velvet skin, your golden hair, the pout of your lips... even your cock, god, your cock...." he pulled from my neck suddenly, moving down to take me in his mouth with a needy groan, sucking hungrily. His need was intensely, desperately arousing, and I tangled my fingers in his hair with a whimper, arching into his mouth before I could stop myself.

John half gagged around me in his enthusiasm, but continued more urgently, groans thrumming through me. It was wonderful, but I knew I couldn't last long. "Please tell me you have oil," I gasped, and he pulled back with a helpless groan, moving back to kiss me before moving to yank at the drawer beside the bed.

"Yes. Yes, of course. Do you want me, Daniel? I've saved myself. If you want me...."

"Oh!" The idea had never crossed my mind, and I found myself staring up at him in amazement. How had I not known that he would want such a thing? It left me disarmed and stammering. "Don't - don't you want me?"

"I want everything," John replied, voice husky with want and sending another pulse of arousal to my cock. "Anything you want. Just say the word." I must have looked overwhelmed, because he pressed close to me again, setting aside the bottle of oil to lean down and kiss me. "I want to please you," he said softly. "I've wanted you too long to think of anything else. Let me be the adept, and you'll be my patron. Any pleasure I can give is yours."

The idea of role-reversal was not uncommon in the arts of the night court, but I knew this was far more than just a game for John. "We'll please each other," I whispered, cradling him to me as I kissed him again. "And I... I'd really like you inside me, if - if that's alright."

John's moan was answer enough. He urged my thighs apart, grabbing for the bottle of oil. "As long as it's not... too soon?"

I shook my head, arching into the press of his slick fingers with a sigh of pleasure. "Naamah keeps us well, in her service," I assured him, smoothing more oil down the length of his cock, light and slow. As beautiful as I'd thought him before, John was even more so now, flushed with desire, breath coming heavier as he pressed another finger up into me. Dark curls of his black hair fell in his face, the always-enthralling green of his eyes thin rims to the wideness of his pupils. "Gods, Daniel...."

"Please," I murmured, arching up to kiss him again, not being able to keep the whine out of my voice. "John, please...."

He'd paid attention on his trips to the night court, I realized quickly as he arranged me on my side, straddling my bottom thigh and pushing the other high. The look in his eyes was so tender, so adoring, and I forced myself to keep his gaze as he began to press into me slowly, watching his eyes unfocus as he eased into me. He had much more girth than my first patron, I realized immediately, and had to force myself to relax and take him. But John's manner was so careful that I felt nothing but pleasure, the wonderful sensation of being stretched open and filled, hard and deep. I tried to press into him, and John shifted his hips in a way that he'd _definitely_ learned from an adept, pushing such pleasure through me that I cried out, breathless.

"My love," he murmured, voice thick with pleasure, curling over me to claim my mouth. "My love. My Daniel. Gods...."

"John - gods - " the insistent movement of his hips was too good, too overwhelming; I couldn't speak for pleasure, each push of his cock driving a whimper from my throat. John clearly needed no encouragement, though, escalating with a near intuitive skill as he covered my lips and jaw and neck with kisses, breathing hard against my skin.

"Yes," he gasped, thrusts growing more desperate as he worked a hand to curl his fingers around my cock, sucking on my neck. "My Daniel... give me your pleasure, my love, I beg... please....!"

How could I hold it back under such exquisite sensation? I arched to quest for his mouth, crying out helplessly as his thrusts grew more desperate, my pleasure cresting, rushing through me in uncontrollable shudders as I spilled in his fingers. John gave a choked cry against my mouth, pushing deep, and then he was coming, holding me tight as he spilled inside me, the satisfaction of his pleasure almost as sweet as my own.

"My love," I whispered when I could speak, feeling like my heart would burst with it, and John gave a soft moan, kissing my mouth again and again.

"It was worth it," he breathed in response, holding me tight. "Waiting, learning, going to the night court, all of it was worth it for you. I'm so in love with you. Anything in the world that is within my power to grant is yours, I swear it, my darling...."

His outpouring of devotion was overwhelming, and for a moment rendered me mute again. I stole his words with a trembling kiss, fingers tight in his hair to hold him it. "Then it is well that I am completely devoted to you and will not use that to my advantage," I whispered, and he moaned softly, kissing me again.

Then he drew back, looking down on me seriously. "...do you think my uncle intended this?"

I could understand immediately the wisdom in such a thing; John, ruled by his heart, remained vulnerable as long as that heart remained unclaimed. I swallowed, reaching up to cup his cheek. "If he did, I swear I knew nothing of it."

John regarded me for a moment, then smiled, turning his face into my touch and kissing my palm. "I believe you," he replied, nuzzling my palm, lips moving down to rest against the delicate skin of my wrist, over my pulse. I drew him down beside me, winding my arms around him as he stretched out against me, and John gave a long sigh against my chest, heavy with emotion.

"I wasn't just playing lip service, you know," he murmured. "There's nothing in the world I want more than to make you my consort. To wake up every morning like this." 

I closed my eyes, stroking my fingers into his hair again. "I would that the greatest service I could offer you would be that, my lord."

"Can't it be?" he whispered, and I closed my eyes and pressed my lips to his hair, heart aching.

" _O, dear my lord,_ " I whispered, " _Let this breast on which you have leant; Serve now as your shield._ "

John trembled in my arms, holding me tighter. "Don't speak to me the poetry of lovers who ended in tragedy."

"But I promise you it won't be so for us," I whispered. "As Blessed Elua is my witness, I swear that my love and fealty is yours, John, first and foremost." 

He gave a soft, choked sound and raised his head to kiss me, trembling. "Uncle Harold will not be pleased that you have sworn yourself so," he whispered, and I shook my head, kissing him again.

"He won't know. And that doesn't matter. He has sworn a similar oath to protect you, has he not?" At my question, John's eyes lowered, assuring me that my suspicions were correct. I drew my fingers over his hair in comfort, caressing the back of his neck. "My love and fealty is yours," I promised again softly, "And I will help Lord Rocaille discover the truth of who killed your mother, so that Terre D'Ange can have a future Queen that truly serves her, and so that I may grant the greatest desire of her future king. Will you accept my oath, my lord?"

Instead of answering, John pulled back, and for a moment I was afraid I had somehow offended him. But he only moved to regard me, stroking a hand over my shoulder and down my back, urging me to turn, displaying my unlimned spine. "When will you go to the marquist?" 

I swallowed, closing my eyes. "I... do not know yet. I will go when I... have an offering to Naamah to pay for its start."

His fingers tightened on my hip, voice tight with anger. "Eltoin did not give you one?"

"Please don't hold it against him," I whispered, trying not to let my disappointment show in my voice, and John sighed, pulling me into his arms again, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"I won't," he murmured. "In truth, he has done me a favor, however unwittingly. I will accept your oath, and in return I will gift you the base of your marque, enough that it may serve as a symbol of my devotion and the oaths I cannot speak."

A soft sob of joy escaped my throat, so overwhelmed by his words that all I could do was kiss him, trembling, wriggling into his arms as he drew me closer, close enough that our bodies could have been one. His kisses grew more needy, and soon enough we were both flushed with desire, legs tangled as we rocked together, pleasure building from each other's caresses and the pleasure of our cocks pressed hard between us, sliding alongside each other.

"Will you give me one more thing?" he panted, and I moaned, rolling my hips against him again.

"Anything, _O sovereign adored._ "

John gave a choked, helpless groan, kissing me again, and his voice was thick with emotion when he spoke. "Make love to me. Please."

His deep set need for it was nearly as overwhelming to realize as the depths of his love. "If you wish it, it would be my pleasure," I replied. "Only... I'm afraid I am not as experienced in such things as you are, my love. But I will do my best to give you pleasure."

John smiled, trembling and achingly sweet, kissing me again. "We'll discover it together," he promised.

And we did.

~~~

 

"Your guardian's letter intrigued me." Alais no Eglantine was a vision of beauty in the simple elegance of the parlour where we met, the deep red of her thick hair restrained in a simple but functional gold mesh caul. Her dress was a rich, deep green velvet trimmed with cloth-of-gold that fit precisely to her tall, trim frame, radiating strength and sensuality both in a way that very much reminded me of Laurent. The care put into her appearance spoke to her taking our appointment seriously; that she addressed me directly instead of Lord Rocaille was an even greater respect. 

I liked her immediately. Then again, I'd always expected to.

"I'd like to hear more before I grant your request," she continued. "I have not used the marquist's tools for some time on anyone apart from my son, and there are many in the city who would welcome the opportunity to design a unique marque for an independent servant of Naamah. Why come to me?"

"The beauty of your art calls to me," I told her, willing my hands to remain relaxed in my lap despite the uncomfortable moistness of my palms. "I don't mean that as idle flattery. There is a beauty and sensuality to the way you render form that - it - it feels right, for a servant of Naamah. Like Naamah's blessing. I would like my marque to represent all pieces of the Night Court, every canon that I have sought to learn and grow from. I became friends with your son during my time at House Eglantine, and from that friendship I believe you might understand my desire and how best to depict it."

Her eyebrows rose slightly as she considered my words. "Such a design would be far more intricate than any marque of the thirteen houses, though I understand that such intricacies have become quite fashionable among the independent servants of Naamah, or at least those with means. It would take some time longer to pay your debt to Naamah. Is that truly what you wish?"

I felt a rush of warmth at her words - the approval of the Goddess I had sworn myself to. "I have been blessed with fortune in my guardian and my patrons, and my devotion should be appropriate to that. It is what Naamah desires of me."

Alais smiled - lush and real and very much like Laurent, and I knew I'd been successful. "I think I'd like such a challenge," she decided, rising and extending a hand. "Come with me and we'll see to your design."

The afternoon was a long one, spent in her studio, first taking detailed measurements of my back, then discussing various elements of design as she sent the household servants for books and studies and later, tea. One she sent to the florist, and when he returned with an armload of blooms, finally set to detailing the final design as an assistant set up the marquists' bed and tools. The brought a small, portable brazier which I appreciated; though the snows outside were beginning to melt, there was still a chill in the air, and I would by necessity be naked when she worked on me.

Finally she presented the final lined drawing to me. Looking on the carefully rendered array of blooms I couldn't help but sigh with the beauty of it; somehow, by her hand the thirteen blooms of the night court existed in what seemed like perfect harmony, winding along my spine and the length of my back, accented with greenery and curling vines. As I'd requested, the finial of my marque would be a complex and beautiful Cereus bloom, the first house and the house of my mother, my childhood. Balm shone prominent too, and Camellia, the remainder of the flowers arranged around them in wonderful balance, the large with the small.

"It's perfect," I whispered, reaching to touch my fingers to the blank paper below the beginning of the careful lines of graphite. "Is my offering tonight enough to complete this bloom?"

"Your offering is generous," Alais replied with a smile. "I can complete more than that."

I shook my head, thinking of John and feeling a rush of warmth, of love. "Just this, please."

Lord Rocaille joined us as we were finishing, giving an approving hum as he regarded the design for my marque, and the ink Alais was finishing with careful taps. "It's very appropriate. And beautiful, You chose well," he told me, and I felt a rush of pride. "I suppose you'll be wanting to show it to him?"

I felt my ears heat. "If... if my lord considers it appropriate."

"I will allow it," he decided, and when we had returned to his apartments at the Palace, sent off a sealed message with a page, receiving one back sometime later. I managed to bite my tongue on my curiosity, knowing that he would keep his word, and finally when the night grew late he held a hand out to Reese, who produced a key on a cord from under his Casseline garb.

"I'll need this back in the morning," Lord Rocaille told me, his smile kind. "And I'll need you back in the morning. I will leave it up to you and Naamah to decide how you spend your time until then. A guard will be here shortly to escort you to him, and the key will grant you access. If that is still to your liking."

"It is," I whispered, and before I could stop myself, leaned in to press a kiss of gratitude to his cheek. "Thank you."

"Go, child," Lord Rocaille said, forcing gruffness, but I could see him smile.

When I finally arrived in John's suite I found him pacing. He rushed to catch me in his arms and pull me into a kiss which I returned just as hungrily, melting into his embrace. It was impossible not to lose myself to it; my body remembered well the pleasure we'd found together and ached for more. Then his fingers brushed the small of my back over the fresh ink on my skin, and I drew a sharp hiss against his mouth as the unexpected touch ignited my abused nerve endings.

John jerked back. "I'm sorry - oh, dammit, are you alright, love? I didn't think - "

"It's alright," I assured him; the pain had faded quickly. I drew away from him, suddenly shy as I started to unbutton my doublet. "... will you see it, my lord?"

"Please," he murmured, hunger apparent in the huskiness of his voice, and I shivered with want for him. I let my doublet slip from my arms and drew my shirt off over my head, setting both aside blindly. Then I unlaced my breeches, his eyes following the movement my fingers, and I finally turned and eased them down over my hips, baring the beginning of my marque.

John drew a soft breath behind me, stepping closer; I shivered as I felt his fingers carefully trace the outside of the fresh ink. I knew what he was seeing; the spray of delicate purple blooms cascaded downwards from the small of my back to end right at the top of the crack of my ass. I'd hoped it would be alluring, and from the soft, helpless groan he gave I knew it was. John's fingers pressed down into my breeches to cup and squeeze one ass cheek as his mouth found my neck, breath hot against my skin as he kissed it.  
"It's beautiful. You're beautiful. It's perfect," he murmured, punctuating his words with kisses, and I closed my eyes, tilting my head to invite more. "What flower is it?"

"Heliotrope," I whispered, and John gave a choked moan, pulling me into his arms, claiming my lips with his own.

"Devotion," he whispered, understanding. "Oh, my love...."

I curled my fingers into his hair and arched against him unrestrainedly. "Our vows to each other," I breathed, and felt him shudder against me, fingers tightening on my hips as he kissed me.

"You need to go before I can no longer bear to allow it," he whispered, suddenly pulling back from me, breathless. "Daniel...."

I felt my face heat and smiled, shaking my head. "I don't need to go anywhere."

He swallowed visibly, and it seemed as though every muscle in his body was drawn bowstring tight with desire and restraint. "We're not contracted...."

I shook my head again. "No. But tonight I am not here for Naamah, but to follow the precept of Blessed Elua. As Lord Rocaille knows." I stepped into him again, drawing his mouth down to mine. "Please take me to bed, John," I whispered, overjoyed when my lover offered no further argument.

~~~


	6. Chapter 6

The next few years, spent in John's court, were a whirlwind in my memories. Once I'd made my debut in Naamah's service I found myself in high demand, enough that Lord Rocaille and I could afford to be very choosy in which patrons I infrequently accepted. It was what he had always intended, and while I wouldn't have minded more assignations, I was satisfied enough in my service. I was able to pay for visits to Alais no Eglantine every two or three months, and even with the amount of detail in my marque it grew inch by inch. By the time I was twenty my back my back was alive with the flowers of the Night Court in blues and greens and purples, only a few inches remaining before the finial.

I wrote Ben, as I always had, wishing still that he was a part of this with me. The correspondence he was permitted to send and receive was restricted to monthly, and though there was much we could not say to each other, my last connection to him was a solace I treasured.

Slightly more often, I was allowed to see John. Sometimes in open assignation, and sometimes, when we stayed in residence at the palace, covertly. Once Lord Rocaille even allowed him to contract me for a full week's trip to the hunting lodge at L'Agnace, which gave me access to the courtiers that followed him during the day, and nights of decadence in John's bed. He'd established a few other favorites from the Night Court by that time, one of which was my friend Laurent, and Lord Rocaille judged John's favor in me benign enough in the eyes of the court to allow him to contract me with wonderful regularness.

I always wanted John, our time apart seeming unending and lonely. I'd worried that at first that he would lose interest in me, especially as his growing involvement in affairs of state kept him from Lord Rocaille's tutelage, but John's adoration remained as fervent as the first time we'd been together.

Lord Rocaille said nothing about my choice to put John's patron gifts away instead of giving them to the marqist. I couldn't say myself why I did, especially since it would have finished my design with ease. Perhaps part of me still felt I owed a debt to Naamah, somehow. Perhaps it was enough to know that I could be a free D'Angeline whenever I chose.

It would have perhaps been the happiest time of my life were it not for my increasing suspicion that we grew no closer to unravelling the mystery of John's mother's death. I'd managed to build a virtual map of connections in my mind, of motivations and alliances and rivalries, and had even begun to predict who would rise and fall in favor. But of connections to the death of the Princess, none our leads or avenues of investigation had borne fruit.

I hoped, silently, that Lord Rocaille was holding something back from me, that our quest was not as hopeless as it seemed. I reported back to him after every assignation - everything I had observed and learned, whether it was on the arm of my patron at a party or in the bed chamber. That I'd failed to link any of these disparate pieces of information together in any meaningful way was a constant frustration for me. But perhaps he had.

Those hopes were dashed when I met him at breakfast one morning to find him looking haggard and sleepless over a long letter.

"Bad news, my lord?" I asked softly, and Lord Rocaille sighed. Then, surprisingly, he pushed the letter across the table to me.

Certain letters were marked; I recognized it immediately as a cypher, which he'd taught John and I to use.

_Finch,_

_Number six has left the nest. We fear our avenues are exhausted. Perhaps it is time for you to return to the roost with your little dove. There are doors we can open for him._

_Root_

The letter was in Caerdicci. "An ally? In the Caerdicca Unitas?"

"Of a sorts." Behind Lord Rocaille, Reese came in from his morning drills on the terrace. He gave a little frown as he glanced at Lord Rocaille, moving behind his chair and drawing his hands up over his shoulders to begin to rub his muscles. How a Casseline had developed the skill in massage of an adept of Balm I'd never asked, but Lord Rocaille clearly needed it. I watched him begin to relax under Reese's hands, the stress of the near-constant pain he endured slowly leaving his form.

"I'm afraid we might be at a standstill here," he admitted with a frown. "I am loathe to leave, especially not knowing the nature of the leads she thinks we can pursue. If we had a stronger lead ourselves...." He shook his head.

I considered the matter as I had many times, weighing what I'd learned from each of my regular patrons. "Perhaps Lord Eltoin?" I suggested, and watched his lips press together in contemplation. We'd established some time ago that Piers' wife's family held little sway themselves, but if my patron knew who was working their strings I'd been unable to draw it from him.

"Perhaps," he said finally. "Would you see him again? I have left his offers unanswered for a few months. He has grown quite desperate in his requests... and his offers."

I couldn't help but smile; I'd known for some time that I had the man wrapped around my little finger. "Yes, I will see him again. But for Elua's sake, please charge the poor man no more than my regular fee."

My decision ended up being a wise one. Piers nearly fell all over me with gratitude when I arrived, falling to his knees in front of me in the bedchamber and covering my hands with kisses. "I was afraid you'd found me wanting," he said, and I gave a soft moan of dismay, leaning down to kiss him, cupping my face in his hands.

"Naamah has never found your passion wanting, my lord," I promised. "And neither have I."

I hadn't lied to him in the least. Though he'd never developed much more finesse in the bed chamber than the first time we'd been together, Naamah had always blessed me with him, as with all of my patrons. His passion was uncomplicated, and I enjoyed the subtle ways I'd learned to mold and influence it. That day I begged him to let me ride him and showered him with compliments as I ground down onto his cock, gasping at how long I'd been without him, blessing the pleasure he gave me until we came apart together.

"Tell me you won't stay away for so long next time," he gasped as we came down, drawing me to him and covering my face with kisses. "I can't bear it, not seeing you. My precious, beautiful boy...."

All needed to do to awaken his concern was stay silent, curling in on myself, eyes averted. The effect was instantaneous.

"What is it, my darling? If it's your fee, I can pay more. I can give generous offerings to Naamah, I - "

"My lord is generous," I assured him softly, finally casting my eyes up to meet him, imploringly. "Please do not fault yourself for my absence. I have always welcomed your patronage."

"Then what is it? Surely you have not yet finished your marque...."

I shook my head again. "It is not my marque, my lord, but the one who holds it, who determines where I may go and who I may serve. And he...."

"He wants to keep you all to himself." Piers' lips pinched bitterly, and I had to choke back a laugh at how absurd the thought of _that_ was.

"It isn't like that between us," I murmured, stroking his cheek. "I give you my word. But he has given me this life, Piers. He is the reason I met you. And... and if he wishes to return to Lucca... then I will follow."

]I watched him stiffen at the mention of the city. In truth, I had no idea if Lord Rocaille had made plans for any specific destination yet, but Piers took my careful bait.

"Lucca," he said with a snarl, holding me closer. "That cesspool doesn't deserve one such as you."

"Is it dangerous?" I whispered, and he sighed, brushing a strand of hair back from my face.

"No more than anywhere else, I suppose. You will continue to take assignations there, I suppose?"

I nodded, letting my mouth twist unhappily. "Only I won't know anyone...."

"Everyone will love you," he assured me, drawing me close and pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Just as I love you, beautiful dove."

For a moment I weighed continuing to press him. I'd never had to be as subtle with Piers as I did with most of my other patrons; like many Cammelines, he thought with his, er, sword. But I held back, instead turning my lips up to his, trembling. "Love me again, my lord, I beg you," I whispered, and he groaned, pressing me back into the bed with reawakened passion. 

There was a fervence and intensity to his lovemaking that was decently enjoyable, and I did all I could to encourage it, gasping for more as he drove into me, legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him into me. I pressed his mouth to my neck, begging him to claim me as I never had before, and it was as if the invitation awoke a new passion and ferocity in him. He rutted into me frantically as his teeth closed down on my shoulder until I was wailing under the intensity of sensation, pleasure crashing down around me, eclipsing the world as as I spilled between us. Piers cried out my skin, triumphant, and spilled into me, holding me all the tighter still.

"Finally I discover the key to making you come before me, right as you prepare to leave me," he whispered against my skin when he could breathe again, lavishing kisses on my skin, over the tender place where he'd bitten me. "Tell me I can see you again. If I come to Lucca, tell me you'll consider my suit, I beg you...."

"I will do my best to convince my Lord Rocaille to allow it," I answered truthfully. Perhaps he would prove a useful connection... and in any case, it would be nice to have someone familiar. "I... I'd like it if you would."

"My darling," he murmured thickly, and kissed me. Then, finding my hand on the bed between us, he took the signet from his smallest finger and pressed it into my palm. "My favor, for what it's worth. My wife's family will honor it. And the Albizzi, I think, though none of those ungrateful bastards deserve the beauty of your service." He paused for a moment, lips tightening slightly, and I stayed silent, willing him to speak. Finally he met my gaze again. "The head of the family in Firenze. Mateo. Stay away from him."

 _Finally._ My heart leapt, and I disguised my excitement with a kiss, whispering to keep it from my voice. "Of course. Thank you, my lord."

~~~

"Albizzi?" Lord Rocaille's astonishment at my report sent a rush of pride through me. He turned away, considering the wall of the library in his estate. "So their influence extends beyond Firenze...."

"So we will to Lucca?' I asked, and he shook his head. 

"Best to go to where the power is, I think. I will make plans to travel." He turned back to me, reaching a hand to cup my cheek, and despite the pleasure of his approval I worried at the seriousness in his eyes. "I will take you to the beds of different princes, Daniel, ones far less safe than John. Do you still wish to serve Naamah?"

"Undoubtedly, my lord," I assured him, feeling a shiver of anticipation in the pit of my stomach at his words. It had been months since I'd solicited a new patron, and the idea of plying my trade and abilities in full once more was surprisingly intoxicating.

"Are you certain? We can finish your marque here before we leave, you know. You could travel as a courtier and a free D'Angeline."

I shook my head. "Wield me as I am, my lord. Let people underestimate me."

He gave a hum of approval, and nodded. "We'll leave within the fortnight, then."

"So soon?" I felt a sudden rush of dismay. I'd seen John only a few days previous, surely....

Lord Rocaille's smile softened. "Yes. After I've made arrangements for you to spend an appropriate amount of time with your liege, of course." He looked at me seriously. "Would you like me to tell him?"

The excitement I'd felt quick turned to anguish at the thought of leaving John. "I will."

~~~

My goodbye reward ended up being four days in L'Agnace. This time John brought no retinue besides a small contingent of guards, and I was glad of it; the thought of having to play the courtier when we would be so long parted was torture.

John seemed quiet as his carriage left the city. Finally he pulled a silk-wrapped book from his bag, offering it to me. "I... have something for you. I was going to wait until you'd made your marque, but... I think it will be some time before that happens now, won't it?"

My heart stopped for a moment. "Lord Rocaille told you."

"That you're leaving?" John smiled sadly and shook his head. "It was an easy deduction. I'd suspected he'd run out of avenues to pursue here some time ago. And then when he offered me so much time with you...." He pressed his lips together tightly, eyes suddenly bright.

I moved from the seat across from him to join him - we'd left the city, and the silk shades on the windows would hide us from view. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I don't want to leave you, but...."

"I know." John drew me close, claiming my mouth, trembling and needy. "I know," he whispered again. "We must do what we must if we hope to one day see our vows recognized. I just wish it didn't hurt so much!"

I wanted to soothe him, but couldn't hold back my own sob, pulling him closer, kisses growing more desperate until he had me pressed back into the corner of the bench seat, sorrow and desire turning to an intensity of need. I gasped soft whimpers against his lips as we rocked together, one thigh pulled up on the bench to wrap around his waist, grinding up against the hardness of his cock where I could feel it pressed against me, straining at the front of his breeches.

"How can I let you go?" he gasped, and I couldn't answer, pulling his mouth back to mine, sucking desperately on his lips and tongue.

Then I reached between us, yanking at the closure of his breeches. "Don't let go," I whispered. "Make love to me, John. Don't let go of me, please don't let go...."

It was easier to lose ourselves to passion than to think about anything else, even in the cramped confines of his carriage. I had a small vial of oil on me, but it was more than enough to serve our needs, and John sobbed my name against my lips as he worked slick fingers up inside me.

"Don't talk about leaving," he gasped, twisting his fingers inside me, moaning at my whimpering cry. "Don't think about leaving. For this weekend you are my consort, and we'll never, never be parted...."

"Never," I whimpered, arching up against his fingers desperately, then pulling them away. "Claim me, husband. Make me yours again."

John gave a choked, helpless groan, pulling me to perch on the edge of the carriage bench and kneeling before it. I pulled my thighs up against his sides, finding it the perfect height, and in moments he was pushing into me, gasping my name against my lips, fingers digging into my hips to pull me closer. "Gods, Daniel...!"

"My lord," I gasped, and wrapped my arms up around his neck, holding him to my kisses. I had to speak to keep from sobbing, had to goad him into more, tightening my thighs around him. The press of his cock was exquisite, filling me perfectly, and even as each thrust pushed a rush of pleasure through me I cried out for more. "Harder, John, please - !"

"My love," he gasped, mouthing helpless kisses to my neck as his he stuttered up harder into me. "My husband. Let me mark you...."

"Yes," I sobbed, closing my eyes as his teeth found the crook of my neck, crying out unrestrainedly at the rush of intensity as he bit down. I didn't care if the carriage driver heard - I could barely even think to consider it - grinding up against him frantically, chasing my need. And John answered it more perfectly than he ever had, setting the hard, brutal pace I craved, punishing me with the pleasure of his cock until I was wailing out my pleasure, clenching around the blissful intensity of his cock as he joined me with a rough cry.

"I love you," I whimpered, and John caught my face in his hands, pressing breathless kisses to my lips, my cheeks, my eyelids, trembling as we came down.

"I love you more than the whole world," he breathed in response. "Promise me you'll come home to me again...."

"I swear it. All the angels in heaven couldn't keep me away," I promised, and he gave a soft, happy sob as he kissed me.

I let John help me back into my clothes, basking in his affections, returning his kisses and gentle touch. Finally settled back on the bench, John reclaimed his forgotten gift, offering it to me again with a soft, shy smile.

I unpinned the wrapping to find a slim bound volume inside, the leather shining and new. _The complete poetry of Anafiel Delaunay de Montreve_ , read the first page in careful but familiar hand. Wondering, I turned the page, lines of poems in John's painstakingly careful hand cascading down the paper.

I felt my lips part as I stared, overwhelmed at the care put into such a gift. "You copied it for me?" I whispered, and John nodded, fingers worrying at the discarded wrapping.

"I did. The layout is exactly the same as my copy. I thought perhaps it would be useful to have something we could use to create cyphers... now more than ever, I guess. We can work out a way to choose the keywords, so we can write anything we want to each other...." at my dazed nod, he looked more anxious. "It's... it's alright, isn't it?"

"You copied it out for me yourself," I whispered again, and John dropped his gaze, giving a soft, shy laugh.

"I know I don't have the neatest hand. But I've been working on it whenever I feel lonely... it helped me feel closer to you."

I shook my head and wordlessly pulled him to me, claiming his lips again and again until the lump in my throat had lessened enough for me to speak.

"It's perfect."

~~~


	7. Chapter 7

As we traveled to Firenze, Lord Rocaille briefed me on our destination. Like the other city-states in the Caerdicca Unitas, Firenze was a republic, governed by a coalition of wealthy merchants and bankers, a seat in the government inherited from one's family. It was intended to provide the benefits of Hellenic democracy, but the balance of power was now divided between two families - the Albizzi, the family somehow tied to my patron, and the Medici. Both now courted D'Angeline favor, with offers of marriage to appropriately nubile daughters.

"Which family was John's mother considering?" I asked, and Lord Rocaille gave a soft hum.  
"I'm afraid I do not know. Roxanne had not confided in me. I suppose it's possible she had not made up her mind, either."

When we finally arrived at the modest estate where we were to stay, I was surprised to find myself conducted to the parlor of an elegant D'Angeline woman, who rose with a smile when she saw us. "Harry! So glad you could finally join me."

Lord Rocaille gave her a kiss of greeting, his manner friendly and genuine. "Thank you for the invitation, my dear. This is my companion. Reese Jordain of the Cassiline brotherhood, and my ward, Daniel no Rocaille. Gentlemen, this is Samantha de Morhban."

"Call me Sam." She stepped towards Reese first, running a finger up his arm. "I can see why he likes you," she said with a smirk, to which I caught a flicker of bemusement in Reese's expression. Then she looked to me. "And this is the one you've been passing as Nathan's child. I suppose it's believable, though Nathan was never this pretty." She tilted her head to one side, still regarding me. "Tell me about myself, Daniel."

Ah, so that was the game we would play. I regarded her for a long moment, weighing everything Lord Rocaille had taught me, including the need for propriety. She looked about ten years my senior, though she could have been older - D'Angelines aged gracefully. "My lady is a woman from a noble family, with obvious means but living outside of Terre D'Ange by choice. I do not know enough of you to suppose why. But... you've kept in contact with Lord Rocaille, so perhaps we have similar interests. Beyond the superficial."

She laughed, brown eyes sparkling merrily. "You've trained him well, Harry," she said, then grinned at me, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Harry trained me too, once upon a time. Before he retired. Maybe when you're done working for him I can show you the kind of things people like you and I can really accomplish."

"Daniel is sworn in service to more than just me," Lord Rocaille remarked with a frown, his words surprisingly sharp, and I looked at him in surprise as Samantha de Morhban - Sam - laughed.

"More than just you, Harry? Don't tell me. The gods? Or perhaps his service is a bit more like his father's was?"

"We're not discussing Nathan," Lord Rocaille shot back, even sharper than before, but Samantha just laughed again.

"I'm only teasing you, Harry. Come on, let's get you settled. I'll have invitations for you and your little dove to meet the most important people in the city in no-time."

~~~

 

Lord Rocaille was content for us to take our time settling in to Firenze, seeking out old acquaintances to get the lay of the land and a feel for society. It had lead to only a handful of carefully selected assignations in the months since we'd arrived, none of which furthered our mission beyond helping establish the reputation of my skill and desirability in the city. It would be harder, I knew, in Firenze, where intimate relations with the same sex were often accompanied by social stigma, so I could understand his wisdom in establishing a feeling of secrecy and exclusivity for my services. Still, without them I felt restless, like I was stuck waiting instead of pursuing the reason we'd come to Firenze in the first place. 

The feeling only became worse when we received news that Queen Evangeline - struggling more and more with her health - had abdicated the throne, leaving John as regent. I'd wanted to go back and see him, to be there for his coronation more than anything. But our goal was more important than ever.

Unraveling the mystery of our hostess was another matter on my mind. Samantha de Morhban, who I was fairly certain was the mysterious Root in Lord Rocaille's correspondence, seemed endlessly well connected, gaining us access to social gatherings all over town. Even though we were her guests we were rarely entertained within the walls of her own home, and one evening I caught sight of her slipping out the side door of the house with her hair braided up and hidden by a cap, a boy's breeches and loose shirt hiding the curves of her slender frame. She winked at me and vanished into the night, leaving me to wonder more.

Why was a woman of such obvious influence and social stature so far from Terre D'Ange, running around disguised in the dead of night?

The answer came sooner than anticipated. We were at the palazzo of the head of the merchant's guild - Antoni de Toffani - who was celebrating the betrothal of one of his flock of daughters to a man of the Albizzi family. As I watched and listened it was easy to detect the ever-present tension between that family and the members of the Medici family in attendance, with the remainder of Firenze playing a delicate game of balancing and juggling favor between the two.

Without fail, the conversation turned to my service, and I smiled, giving answers I'd repeated so often since our arrival that I could give them in my sleep - that yes, I'd chosen Naamah's service, that it was a holy calling, and no, I did not have the exotic tastes of the historic D'Angeline courtesan the Lady Phedre no Delaunay de Montreve. No, I was not serving my goddess in Firenze - Lord Rocaille and I had decided this was the best official position to take - only accompanying my guardian in his travels.

The master of the house, Signor Toffani, laughed, ruddy faced with the drink. "What a calling! So, little courtesan, is it only rich widows that you serve, or do young D'Angeline girls lay their maidenhead on the altar of your goddess of whores? Surely you must have get all over Terra D'Ange!"

"Come now, Antonio. This isn't the dark ages," another man pointed out - Mateo de Albizzi, uncle to the groom to be.

Maestro Roberto, a Tiberian scholar I'd encountered several times and rather liked, nodded. "The D'Angelines trade in Silphium as we do, and other methods to plan the family."

I bowed my head slightly in acknowledgement. "Of course, my lords. And D'Angeline women receive protection from Eisheth, until they are ready to pray for her to open their wombs for children."

"Ah, that Shemesh the golden one would grant us such divine protection!" Signor Toffani laughed, elbowing Mateo in the ribs. "We could make a gift of this lovely boy to Leonardo de Medici, to keep his wife and daughters company while he is on business!"

Whether Signore Toffani was trying too hard to curry favor, or simply spoke his true mind under the intoxication of the drink, I couldn't tell. Mateo looked faintly amused, and far more sober, I realized, then he'd been letting his companions believe. "Surely you jest, Antonio. I would never make such an insult to such an upstanding citizen of Firenze."

"Or perhaps we could gift him to Lorenzo himself, eh? Infect him with the D'Angeline sickness! You'll accept any patron, won't you, boy?"

"Blessed Elua's precepts put no restrictions or stigma on love," I said calmly, despite the way his words made my blood heat. I wasn't so angry as to miss the way Mateo's eyes ran down my body at my words, contemplative and unmistakably appreciative. "However, Lord Rocaille selects my patrons with care, to ensure my service pleases the Gods."

"Or his coffers, I'd wager! The whore is choosy and expensive, Mateo, imagine that!" Clearly drunk, Antonio's words were far louder than I'm sure he realized, and I saw several sets of eyes turn in our direction. Lord Rocaille turned as well, giving an apology to those he was speaking with, but before he could step away, Samantha de Morhban stepped close to murmur something in his ear. He nodded, moving to me as she disappeared and giving a polite nod to the others as he took my arm. "Forgive me, gentlemen, I must steal my ward away from you for a personal matter," he said, and I bid them adieu and followed him from the room, hearing and ignoring Antonio's jibe about _personal matters_ as we left.

Reese, never far from Lord Rocaille, slipped behind us as we moved through the gathering, and when Lord Rocaille opened a narrow door at the back of the dining room, I followed him through it without comment - I'd learned not to question him when we were out, knowing I'd never get a full answer when not in private - down a flight of stairs to the ground floor, where the lavish decorations of the palazzo faded for the more utilitarian domestic rooms. 

Finally we stepped out into the courtyard of the villa, where a dark-haired woman sat alone on a bench, her hair pulled into a modest knot at the base of her neck. Her fitted velvet dress was deceptively plain - though it had few adornments I could tell the velvet was thick and costly. She seemed young - I put her age at five or six years older than mine - and the only jewelry she wore was a gold signet on her left hand.

She rose as we appeared, and Lord Rocaille bowed a head to her, speaking low. "Signora Cicconi?"

"Sameen de Medici. My husband has been dead for three years, and I am returned to my father's household." She drew back to regard him cooly. "You're her D'Angeline teacher? You're not what I expected."

Her bluntness surprised me, but Lord Rocaille simply smiled. "Nor you. But I can see why she likes you."

Sameen de Medici looked past him to Reese and myself. "I don't see how she thinks a dried up scholar and his boy whore can help me. At least the muscle looks proficient. There a reason you need guarding?"

Lord Rocaille regarded her evenly - if she was trying to antagonize him, it didn't seem to have any effect. "As you may have noticed, I am in poor health as a result of past injuries. She lead me to believe that incident is something that may link our interests together, Signora. May we speak somewhere inside?"

"I prefer to have several escape routes," she responded, and Lord Rocaille leaned closer, lowering his voice.

"I would ask for more privacy for the subject we must speak about," he said, and though her lips pursed in disapproval, she nodded, leading us back inside through a second door, drawing the bar behind her. It appeared as though used for storage, rough-hewn table sat in the middle with a bottle of wine and a few mostly-empty platters spread out on it. She sat with her back in the corner, and I didn't miss how she kept both the barred door to the outside and the one into the palazzo in full view.

"Sameen." Lord Rocaille regarded the woman as he settled on the bench beside her. "That's not a name I hear often in Firenze."

"My mother was royalty from The Umaiyyat," she replied without hesitation. "It gained the Medici strong connections in the region. I'm not here to talk about that. My husband Michele was a guild member. In the matter of the feud of our families, the Guild backs the Medici. Are you aligned, Guildmaster Finch?"

Lord Rocaille's eyes flicked to me for a brief second. "I'm not here on guild business."

"Of course you are," she shot back. "Listen. My husband was murdered while investigating a certain matter that happened in Lucca eight years ago. The same one that landed you with this guy as a guard, from what Root says. So your business is guild business."

Lord Rocaille leaned closer, voice low. "And what did he find, during his investigations in Lucca?"

"Something that is only for the ears of the King of Terre D'Ange. Get me to him safely, and I'll tell him everything I know."

"SIgnora - "

At that moment the door to the palazzo burst open. I got a brief impression of men in dirty leathers before Reese flung me back into the corner, next to Lord Rocaille and the Lady before upending the table in front of us. "Stay down!" he shouted, but Sameen shouldered her way out, grabbing up a fallen platter and drawing a dagger from seemingly nowhere.

"Give me your sword!" I heard her shout over the ringing of steel, and peeked over top of the table. Unlikely - a Cassiline only drew his sword to kill, and dead men could answer no questions. Reese gave no response, busy defending against two of the attackers with fluid strokes. Sameen gave a frustrated growl, ducking her attaker's slash and sending him sprawling with a surprisingly agile kick to the stomach. As he recovered, she ducked behind Reese and sliced through the belt that held his sheath to his back like butter, drawing the sword and running her attacker through without hesitation, then dispatching one of Reese's.

Reese disarmed the last with little trouble, blocking Sameen's swing of his own sword with one of his vambraces before she could kill him, too. "Enough!"

"Dead men tell no tales, Signora," Lord Rocaille said, struggling to get up from where he'd fallen. Breaking free of my daze at seeing a woman fight in such a deadly and efficient fashion, I turned quickly to help Lord Rocaille.

"I don't have to ask to know the scum that hired him," Sameen snarled, but dropped the sword anyway, grabbing a length of rope to help Reese secure the third man.

"That may well be, but I'd prefer to ask questions, and we don't have much time." Limping out from behind the upturned table, he shot a sharp look at Sameen. "When the household comes, you and I were meeting to discuss a contract between yourself and my ward."

The woman bristled noticeably. "What? I would not - "

"Unless you have a better idea, do as I say!" Lord Rocaille snapped, then turned to the last of our attackers, who Reese had pushed up against the wall. "Who hired you? Who was your target?"

The man laughed and spat, barely missing his face. "No-one. I am nobody."

"You're gonna be a dead nobody if you don't open your mouth," Sameen growled, lifting the sword.

"I'm dead either way, Signora. Better at your hand then theirs!"

I couldn't watch as they tried to reason with him, turning instead to the dead men, blood pooling from their wounds. A search of their forms turned up a folded parchment and a coin bag, both of which I quickly hid inside my jacket at the sound of booted footsteps - the palazzo guard, followed by the red-faced Signor Toffani. 

In the chaos that followed I was quietly amused to hear Sameen give Lord Rocaille's excuse, cool and confident. Then Lord Rocaille's fingers closed around my elbow, spiriting me out of the Palazzo and into a carriage back home.

"Should we really leave her?" I asked, looking back towards the palazzo.

"She'll be fine. They won't act against a Medici in the open, and not again so soon after a failed attempt. Us, on the other hand...."

I watched Reese's fingers tighten on his dagger. "It's best we get home."

Samantha de Morhban, like most in the city, had a modest number of men at arms, two of which stood sentry at the gate as our carriage pulled inside it. It occured to me for the first time how defensible it was, the walls tall and strong and in good repair. I glanced around, half expecting more unexpected attackers, and was relieved to follow Lord Rocaille inside.

"Go clean up and meet me in the library," he said, and I noticed for the first time the blood stains on my fingers and the leathers of my boots. I nodded mutely, disappearing off to my rooms to do so. 

When I returned Sam was just coming in the main gate, half disguised in a man's cloak and hat, which she swept off her head to let her curls tumble loose down her back as she strode into the library. "Did you manage to get it out of her before you were attacked?"

Lord Rocaille, rising, gave a small, sharp shake of his head. "Only that she wishes it for the King's ears only. Where the hell did she learn to fight like that?"

"Michele taught her some. After he died, I taught her the rest. He was certain the Albizzi were behind the death of the Dauphine, that he could get proof at home in Lucca, get a name. If he told her... Harry, we have to take her to the king."

"And have brigands kill us on the road? Even all your men at arms are nothing compared to the power of the Albizzi. And with no proof of who attacked us tonight - "

"My lord," I started, pulling the letter and purse from my jacket pocket, offering them to him. "From one of the men."

Lord Rocaille unfolded it, frowning as he read it over, then handing it to Sam. "Can we prove anything by this? Any hand?"

"Perhaps if we petition the Signoria for investigation," she said with a frown, turning for her writing desk.

Lord Rocaille nodded, then gave me a smile. "Thank you, Daniel. You've done very well. You may retire."

"I'd like to stay and help," I said, but he shook his head.

"Best you leave it to us. Please."

It made me angry, when I'd been the one to think to search the fallen mercenaries in time. But I turned obediently and left, finding sleep impossible as I tossed and turned, more and more discontent with being left out.

Finally I lit a candle, pulled out my copy of _the Poems of Anafiel Delaunay_ , and wrote a letter to John, telling him everything. Would Lord Rocaille approve? I decided not to think about that. He'd shut me out, but I couldn't stand by. 

I couldn't stand idle with so much at stake.


	8. Chapter 8

"Tell me about the Guild," I said quietly when Lord Rocaille and I were alone together the next morning, in the small parlor of the rooms Samantha de Morhban had given us, where we'd taken to having breakfast.

I didn't miss the way Lord Rocaille tensed, though he fought to hide it. "Which guild?"

"The one Signora Medici spoke of last night. The guild that her husband belongs to, that backs the Medici."

"I'm afraid I'm as in the dark about that as you are," Lord Rocaille replied mildly, and I felt a flare of anger.

"My lord, do not insult me and the skills you have taught me! You spoke of it as familiarly as she!"

"You should tell him, Harold," Reese said quietly, and Lord Rocaille looked torn.

"Daniel, I...." he closed his eyes for a moment, giving a pained sigh. "I can't. Unless the guild takes an interest in you, you can't know any more about it, and that is something I very much wish to avoid for you."

His words took me back to the day we'd arrived in Firenze, to meeting Sam. "That's what the Lady de Morhban meant when she spoke about you being her teacher, wasn't it? When she said that there were things she could teach me. She's part of this Guild. And they are interested in me."

"My dear boy, how could they not be?" Lord Rocaille's brows knit together helplessly. "Please trust me in this. You do not want to become involved with the guild."

"Then tell me why! You brought me here to help you - everything I've done since I left the Night Court has been to help you, but I can't do that if I only know half the story!"

"Because I cannot be certain they have John's best interests in mind!" Lord Rocaille grew white after crying the words, and drew back, looking around with a sudden fear in his eyes I'd never seen before.

Reese pushed his chair back from the table, standing and moving to lay his hands gently on Lord Rocaille's shoulders. "We're safe here," he said softly, thumbs rubbing into his shoulders in that way he'd learned to help Lord Rocaille relax. "And you should tell him, Harold."

Lord Rocaille's eyes closed, and for a long moment he was silent, though I could see him beginning to relax to Reese's ministrations. "I can't tell him about the guild," he said again softly, genuinely regretful, and Reese gave a soft hum.

"Then perhaps you should tell him about Nathan."

Lord Rocaille's eyes flicked up towards Reese, then down to the table, staring for a long moment without seeing. "Nathan and I grew up with Roxanne," he said finally. "We both loved her, we would have done anything for her. But Nathan... he was always so gallant." His lips twisted, and if I'd thought before that he'd moved past the pain of his consort's death, I could see now that it was as fresh as ever. "When the plague took John's father, Nathan made a vow, to John and Roxanne both. That no matter what happened and who she chose to marry he would act as a father to him. That he would protect him with his life, unconditionally."

"Cassiel's vow," I said softly, and Lord Rocaille gave a small nod.

"When Roxanne decided to go to Lucca to discuss marriage...." he stopped, and swallowed hard. "The guild had sent me a message warning me to take care, that they'd received intelligence about... possible unrest. I knew that they supported the Medici, they've been working to increase their influence for a very long time. I thought they were trying to use me to sway her, that's how they operate. How... _we_ operate. I couldn't do it. So I... I kept the intelligence to myself. And I lost both of them."

I stared at him, my mouth dry. Every inch of my training in Balm told me to say something, anything, to acknowledge his feelings and thank him for his vulnerability, but the lump in my throat choked my words. "My lord...."

He let out a long breath, voice a bare murmur. "Does survivor's guilt pass when everything that has happened actually is, in fact, your fault?"

Reese's fingers tightened gently on one of his shoulders, barely perceptible, but Lord Rocaille managed a smile, reaching up to cover his hand and return the squeeze. "In any case. I hope you can understand, now, why I can't take any chances when it comes to John's wellbeing."

That he'd taken on his consort's oath to protect John went without saying. I nodded, meeting his gaze. "You must know by now that he's just as important to me. Please... let me help. This is why I'm here. Why you trained me. You can rely on me, I promise. Everything I've done since that day we met at Balm House...."

Lord Rocaille nodded slowly. "Once it is safe, I will arrange an assignation."

I took a deep breath. "I'd like you to arrange one with Mateo degli Albizzi."

Immediately the tension returned to his body. "That is not a man to be trifled with."

"No," I agreed. "But he wants me. And perhaps we have been too timid for too long."

He regarded me for a long moment, then gave a slow nod. "Perhaps we have. Give me time. I'll see what I can do."

~~~

After the attack I knew it would be some time before Lord Rocaille would send me any assignations, leaving me even more frustrated and helpless than before. Three weeks went by, the weather growing colder, and no word came from John, either. 

My one beacon of light was the upcoming midwinter celebrations. In the Caerdicca Unitas, I'd discovered the celebrations lasted for a full week around the longest night, and Lord Rocaille remarked bemusedly that they were more excessive and frivolous than I could ever imagine without experiencing them. Like D'Angeline celebrations, all celebrations were masked, but the Caerdicci took it to a whole new level. No doubt it had evolved from from the ancient Tiberian festival of Saturnalia, with it's games of role-reversal and striking of social status; now, a Midwinter mask meant complete anonymity, a time when people could act without judgement or consequence.

"It won't be dangerous?" I asked him, afraid to hear his answer.

Thankfully Lord Rocaille shook his head. "None of the families would dare cause strife during such a sacred celebration. To do so would mean a fine steep enough to bankrupt any of them."

I nodded, mind already racing ahead over the possibilities. "It sounds like a unique opportunity to get closer to our persons of interest."

"You'd think so, but it often proves quite impossible to find anyone. Even the host of a party." Lord Rocaille shook his head, bemused. "I have a few places where we will try our luck. But anything we find or anyone we might connect with is like to be coincidental."

"...oh." Why did the thought disappoint me so? "I will have no assignations, then?"

He shook his head. "On a night when one can have love without consequence, I'm afraid there's little call for it. But you may find an opportunity to serve Naamah, if you wish."

I did wish, I realized immediately. After so long without assignation, my blood burned for it, almost as much as I ached to return to John. But perhaps Lord Rocaille was wrong... perhaps I could make opportunity of the celebrations.

As I dressed for our first night out at Midwinter, I felt nervous, excited but unsettled. When I took a patron they were always known to me; I could study them ahead of time, see how they interacted with others, take their measure and prepare my own approach. The unknown... was frightening.

"Don't think on it too much," Lord Rocaille told me gently. "Or if you must, practice your observation and see how many you can recognize beneath their masks and costumes. You look lovely, by the way."

"Thank you, my lord." His advice and praise cheered me both. He'd procured a few sets of costumes for the three of us; tonight we dressed as Hellenic gods, with Reese the Ares to Lord Rocaille's Poseidon, in finely draped silk togas. For me was Hermes, in a knee-length belted tunic edged with glorious cloth-of-gold, and fine leather sandals with high laces, both of which showed off copious amounts of thigh. My mask was leafed in gold as well, thin and molded precisely to my face, with elegant gold wings that appeared from under my short-cropped hair. The gold made the blue in my eyes even more striking; I regretted my lack of a patron to admire it.

"In ancient books they say the Blessed Elua and his Angels found a measure of rest, of peace here during midwinter, in their anonymity. Tonight while we are masked we are no-one," Lord Rocaille said softly, as if reading my mind. "Even our gods set us free of our identity and our vows. So you are free to do as you will, my dear, without contract or payment. I trust your judgement."

The palazzo he took me to was grand and opulent, the doors kept by imposing looking men-at-arms. Lord Rocaille and I agreed upon a place and a time to meet, and then he disappeared into the gathering, Reese a silent shadow at his side.

I made my way slowly through the palazzo, keeping myself just far enough away from other attendees so as to avoid drawing attention while taking stock of the guests, using the abilities of observation and covercy I'd developed to absorb the lay of the land.

It was on the third floor, near the end of one of the wings that something finally gave me pause. At the end of a parlor filled with revelers playing games of chance, a masked figure leaned against the wall beside the opening to a dark hallway, watching the room. There was nothing about his costume to mark him as different from the other revelers, but his stance - deceptively relaxed with his arms crossed low across his stomach, hands resting on the hilts of decorative daggers - that was as familiar and known to me as the dear protector of Lord Rocaille. This man was a Cassiline. But why another Cassiline in Firenze? And who was he protecting?

I slipped quietly through the gamers, slow and without deliberate destination. Still, I became aware of the man's eyes on me; somehow he'd marked my interest. Finally I gave up the ruse, approaching him openly with a smile, switching back to D'Angeline when I spoke. "Joy on the longest night, brother," I said, and as the man's lips parted with a sharp gasp recognized who I was speaking to.

" _Ben,_ " I whispered without thinking, because even masked, even with eight years between us, I knew the face I was looking at almost better than my own, and even now it was nearly my own. I gave a sob of joy at the realizing, and before I could stop myself had thrown my arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss, arching against him. Eight years between us and I felt the pain of our parting as if it were yesterday, the strength of that emotion transforming to incredulous joy. 

Eight years and I wanted him more badly than I ever had before.

Ben's fingers dug into my waist, though he made no move to push me away. "You can't be here," he hissed, but kissed me again, hard and trembling. "Gods, cousin...."

"I'm a guest here," I gasped, arching against him, unable to bear the thought of pulling away. "It's midwinter, and we're Caerdicci, which means that our masks strip away our identity, and all rules. Please, Ben...."

I didn't even know what I was asking for, but then he was pulling me back through the darkened hallway, into a windowed alcove beside a closed door, behind which I could hear the unmistakable sounds of pleasure. I pulled him into another kiss, and Ben pressed me up against the wall, licking past my lips with a single minded focus and passion. I yielded with a whimper, meeting his kisses with increasing need, craving more. How long had it been since I'd felt so dizzy with desire, so desperate for sensation? Certainly none of my assignations in the Caerdicca Unitas had felt like this. Nothing had felt like this since I'd left John. 

Ben's hands groped hungrily over my body, finally rubbing up my thighs and under my tunic, and he choked back a moan as his hands clenched on my bare ass. "Gods, Daniel - I - I can't - "

The helplessness in his voice brought back a measure of my sanity - I forced myself to draw back and look at him in the near-darkness. "Have you given a vow of chastity to Cassiel?" 

Ben swallowed audibly, shaking his head. "I am still sworn to Naamah. My only vows are to serve and protect."

"Then serve Naamah," I breathed, reaching a hand to undo his breeches, cupping and stroking his cock as I did. I could hear the noises of pleasure in the room behind us grow more intense, That and the noise of the party a constant reminder of where we were and how easily we could be discovered, but for once I didn't care about propriety at all. "Please, Ben. It's been so long, I've missed you so much.... And there's finally no reason for us to be apart. Please, cousin...."

Ben gave a ragged sigh as my fingers curled around his cock, pressing into the touch as he claimed my mouth again. "Do you truely not know by now?" he whispered, even as his hands stroked up the back of my thighs again. "Daniel...."

I shook my head, distracted. "Whatever it is doesn't matter. We're still a matched pair. We still belong together...."

He gave a helpless laugh against my lips. "Matched because we're brothers," he breathed. "Because the same man sired us both. Do you still think that there's no reason for us to be apart?"

I froze at his words, a million thoughts, a million questions running through my mind at once. Of course we were brothers; how else were we so well matched? Our mothers would not have left that to chance. How had I not realized? How had Ben discovered it? And could he still want me, even knowing?

The answer to that came just as fast. Of course he still wanted me; his desire upon discovering me had been as instantaneous and overwhelming as my own. I gave a soft moan, tangling my free hand in his hair and pulling his mouth back to mine. "Tonight we celebrate as Caerdicci, and we are no-one," I whispered, feeling Ben tremble against me. "And we have eight years to make up for and a promise to fulfil. Don't we?"

Ben's hips stuttered into my touch, and then he was kissing me again with no trace of his former restraint. "I've never felt like this for anyone but you," he breathed helplessly, fingers stroking down the crease of my ass and groaning at the unmistakable slick of the oil I'd prepared myself with. "Gods, Daniel...."

"Then have me," I whispered, and before he could question was turning in his arms, lifting the short skirt of my tunic and grinding my ass back against his cock.

Ben pressed his mouth to my neck with a choked, muffled cry, one arm around my waist to hold me tight as he ground the length of his cock between my ass cheeks. "Daniel, I can't - I - "

"Please," I whimpered, trembling, aching with need for him. "Please take me, please - "

"Gods - !" Ben fumbled between us, holding me tighter, and then he was pushing against me, the head of his cock thicker than even I'd anticipated, near painful as my body stretched around him. For a moment I could barely breathe, feeling like I was being split in two - had I ever had anyone so big? - and even prepared, there wasn't nearly enough oil. Still, my need for him eclipsed all of that, and I ground my ass back against him, pushing him deeper with a breathless cry.

"Gods," he gasped again, breath ragged as his hips stuttered against me, a rush of movement that made me cry out again. "Gods, Daniel - "

"Please," I sobbed again, trying to move with him, trembling with the need for sensation. "More, please - "

"Ah, Elua - !" he gasped against my ear, and with that prayer started to use me in earnest.

There was little subtlety to our lovemaking - how could there be, with this so long coming? I braced myself against the wall on my forearms, rutting back onto his cock desperately, biting my lip against the cries each rush of pleasure drove from my throat. The familiarity of Ben's scent, the helpless passion of his kisses on my neck was perfect, driving my pleasure even more as we rutted together, frantic and desperate.

"Gods, you feel so good," Ben gasped, fingers digging bruises into my hips. "Never stopped wanting you - gods, imagined this so much... so much better than I ever - ever... gods - !"

The intensity of his cock left me speechless, pleasure building at breakneck speed - I pressed one fist to my mouth to keep from wailing, biting down on my own skin to keep myself quiet and crying out despite it, muffled and desperate. I'd felt so ungrounded in Firenze without my regular assignations, but it was more than that, I realized - I felt ungrounded without a partner, without John. Seeing Ben again after so long apart alleviated that desperate longing, and experiencing his passion was sweeter, more exquisite than I ever could have anticipated.

The cycle of passion built too quickly for me to hold back; even employing the tricks of Naamah it still felt too good, too intense, my body riding the peak of climax, trembling with the need to come. "Please," Ben half-sobbed against my skin and I crashed helplessly over the edge, shuddering around his cock as I came untouched and feeling him spill inside me, hips stuttering deep with a cry.

For a moment I was too dazed to speak, sagging against the wall with Ben's arm wrapped around my waist. Ben gave a soft groan, breathing hard as he pressed kisses up my skin. "Gods, Daniel...."

Then the door behind us opened.

For a moment I could only blink owlishly in the spill of light, frozen in place, feeling my ears burn at being discovered. But the man at the door was in a state of far less undress than us, wearing nothing but his dominio mask and a drape of fabric low around his hips. His body and his grin I was definitely, intimately familiar with, though I'd be hard pressed to say which was more appealing.

"Lar - " Ben started, and Laurent smiled wider.

"Hey, hey - don't stop on my account. I was just coming to beg your forgiveness for needing to stay some time longer. But I see you've found something to occupy your time." He winked and grinned at me, wide and lopsided.

"But I - "

Lar stepped into us with a hand on Ben's shoulder to keep him from moving, but it was me he leaned close to. "Stay with Ben. I need to speak with you later, little sunshine," he whispered, and then was gone.

In his absence the alcove was dark again, the silence between Ben and I suddenly thick.

"I'm sorry," Ben said softly, lowering his face to my shoulder. "This... wasn't what I wanted for us." He drew away, refastening his breeches and adjusting his sword belt.

I turned, heart aching. "I'm sorry. I just... I've felt so alone here. Seeing you after so long... I shouldn't have pushed you."

Ben shook his head, pulling me close. "No. I wanted it too," he murmured, lips finding mine. "I've never stopped wanting you. I was so happy to be coming to Firenze to find you. I think I just... imagined treating you better, when we met again."

"It was wonderful. Truly, Ben." I stroked my fingers up into his hair, then paused. "... You were sent to find me?"

"I didn't understand it myself," Ben told me, shaking his head. "King Jonathan petitioned the order for my services specifically... He said he needed a Cassiline who would not take offense to guarding a servant of Naamah, like a priest would."

"You're not a priest?"

"Not yet," Ben said, lips pursing in a way that had always meant he was worried. "Perhaps not ever, when I am unable to take full vows. I should not be on assignment at all, except... when the King of Terre D'Ange sends you as a messenger to the Albizzi... one does not deny him. When Laurent and I met him, he told us the second part of our mission was to find you. To stay with you."

My heart leapt in my throat. "You met John?"

Ben hummed an affirmative, nodding. "He was very complimentary..." A soft laugh, glancing down. "He told me it was a terrible waste that I was a Cassiline. I don't believe he knows that I am also sworn to Naamah." Ben looked up at me seriously. "He knows you, doesn't he? That's how he knew to ask for me."

I felt a thrill of nervousness in the pit of my stomach, somewhere between excitement and terror. But why should I be afraid with Ben? "Yes," I said softly. "The man who bought my mark was his tutor, we studied together."

Ben watched me speak quietly, and I remembered when we were children, how well we'd known each other. How he'd always been able to read me so well. "You love him, don't you?" He asked softly, clearly just as in tune with me as he always had been. 'You're in love with him, as he is with you."

For the first time I felt a surge of guilt at his words, though I couldn't explain why... was it that I'd fallen in love with another, despite my promises to find Ben again? We'd never had any illusion as children that we would ever be the only love in each other's life. Or maybe it was that I'd reached for Ben without question, tumbled into desperate intimacy with him without even stopping to think about John. "I'm sorry," I whispered, and Ben gave a soft hum, one hand finding mine.

"Don't be." Ben squeezed my hand. "Don't ever apologize for being happy, my dearest. It's all I've ever wanted for you."

Again I could see the sincerity in his gaze, and it made me love him all the more. "It doesn't change the way I feel about you," I whispered, and Ben smiled, soft and sad.

"Even if you are to be consort to the King?"

I shook my head, pressing close. "He knows how much you mean to me," I said, even though he didn't know about _this._ I wanted to say that John couldn't begrudge me my love for Ben, but how could I be sure? "You're my cousin. You're my...."

"My dearest," he murmured again, holding me tight. "Let's just enjoy this time together..."

Stay with him, Laurent had asked me. I wanted nothing more. Silently I reached a hand up to cup Ben's cheek, feeling him press into my touch. Encouraged, I leaned in to claim his mouth again in a long, slow kiss, twinning my fingers in his hair.

Ben's hands smoothed up the outside of my thighs again, pulling me closer. "I can't be distracted from my charge..." he started, but I shook my head.

"No one will cause trouble during midwinter," I promised him, stroking one hip with the inside of my thigh as I urged Ben to lean back against the wall. "It's sacred, unheard of, and carries fines far greater than even the most powerful families can bear. Why else do you think Lord Rocaille would allow me to explore the palazzo on my own?"

I could feel Ben's fingers kneed the muscles of my ass restlessly as I spoke, urging the slow rock of my hips. His breath came heavier as we kissed. "Gods, we can't - Lar's patron could leave at any moment...."

Ordinarily, the thought of compromising the anonymity of a patron would have been out of the question. But it was midwinter, after all. I nuzzled Ben's jaw, nibbling at his earlobe. "Who is Lar with? One of the Albizzi?"

"Signore Mateo," Ben murmured, and I felt a rush of excitement, realizing the opportunity in front of me... and how very pleasurable it would be to take it.

I drew back to look at him, reaching up to loosen the strings of my mask. "Will you help me with something, cousin? Will you trust me?"

Ben's eyes darted to my fingers as I pulled at the strings. "What are you..."

"Trust me," I murmured again. "Let me ride you. Sit back on the window ledge. Please...."

Ben drew a soft hiss against my skin, twisting to kiss my throat, restless and open-mouthed. "Helping you sounds very self-serving," he murmured, and I laughed breathlessly and reached for his breeches.

Soon enough I was perched between his strong thighs, grinding down onto the pleasure of his cock. With my tunic tucked into my belt I looked completely debauched; with my mask pushed into my hair, I was completely recognizable. I braced myself on Ben's thighs, reveling in the strength of his muscles under my fingers, and for a time completely forgot my intentions to the pleasure of being with him. Ben's mouth was hot on my neck, hands stroking a brand of pleasure over my bare thighs and up my torso, and I couldn't hope to hold back my gaps of pleasure as I fucked myself slowly on the exquisite thickness of his cock. Even with enough of a mind to use the arts of Naamah, I felt helpless to desire, and had we not just had love I would have come embarrassingly fast, ruining all my plans.

As it was when the door opened again it took me a moment to realize; eyes closed to my pleasure, rolling my hips down onto Ben's cock with increasing desperation, my body aching for completion. I opened my eyes to find a figure in the lighted doorway; even masked, I recognized Mateo degli Albizzi immediately, just from the posture of his form and hunger in his eyes as he looked at me.

I met his gaze boldly, breathless and quivering with the need to come, moving one hand to curl around my own cock. For a moment that seemed like eternity that tension hung in the air between us, and then Ben bit down at the crook of my neck and I came apart, whimpering my pleasure as the throws of passion claimed me.

When I could breathe again, when I could think again, I opened my eyes, fully expecting our spectator to be gone and finding he hadn't moved a muscle. I felt a rush of nerves and adrenaline - had I been wrong? Had I gone to far?

Then Mateo stepped forward, reaching up to pull my mask down onto my face. As he did he cupped my cheek with his palm, running his thumb over my lips and pressing it into my mouth. Dazed, I drew on it with a breathless moan, feeling a rush of pleasure when he smiled.

"You should be more careful with your mask, you sweet little whore," he said, pushing his thumb deeper. "Someone might see you and think they can take whatever they want from you."

I felt Ben tense behind me and squeezed his thigh hard in warning, gasping as Mateo pulled his thumb from my lips. "Forgive me, my lord," I whispered, and he patted my head and was gone.

It took me a moment to pull myself together enough, trembling in the aftermath of what had passed. "You alright?" Ben murmured, and I managed a nod, finally easing off him, sighing at the loss of his cock.

I brushed a kiss to his lips. "Come inside."

He nodded, straightening his clothing, and followed me into the room, latching the door behind us.

Inside, Laurent had just donned the hose of his costume. He glanced to us with a smirk as he pulled his shirt on over his head. "Quite the show you decided to put on out there. Something I should know, Daniel?"

"You first. Ben says... Ben says the king sent you."

Lar's smile grew fond, and he stalked to where his doublet had been thrown over the back of a chair, the muscles in his long dancer legs shifting and bunching beautifully as he moved. "I expected he would, you know. When you left... he contracted me a number of times, quite desperate for company, unwilling to open up. I finally told him that it was completely obvious to me how he felt about you, and we've talked at length since then. I have a letter for you."

In truth, I'd hoped he'd turn to Laurent for company. The admission relieved me, and my heart leapt at the thought of a letter, hand-carried with trust. "Here?"

Lar nodded, carefully pulling a stitch loose on the lining of his doublet, drawing out a folded, unmarked piece of paper.

It was unaddressed and unsigned, but I recognized John's hand immediately.

_I had a dream one night, of a pair of matched doves, the one protecting the other. I remembered what you'd told me. In my dream they flew with a cardinal, far away from me. But I knew that together they'd return._

_I miss you, my dearest, more than mere words can say. Each day grows colder without you, and I'm not sure how much longer I can bear it._

_I love you. Please ask your lord tutor to forgive me for acting._

I stared at the last line for a moment with a rush of dread. Forgive him for acting? Did he mean sending Lar and Ben to me, or did he have something else planned? "What was his request to you with the Albizzi?"

"Nothing complicated. To come here, to express his interest in discussing their offer of allegiance through marriage. And to use my skills appropriately to make them feel amicable." He smirked at that. "If my patron tonight was any indication, the D'Angeline sickness is well established here, and they are very amicable."

"Mateo degli Albizzi."

"You're familiar with him."

I nodded. "I... need to meet with him, and I'd like to use the chaos of midwinter to do so." I still wore Piers Elton's signet on a ribbon under my tunic; I pulled it off, holding it out to Lar. "Will you arrange it for me? Give him this, and bid him meet me in the palazzo of the head of the merchant's guild tomorrow, where I have accepted an invitation. Bid him wear a blue domino, and I will find him."

Laurent nodded slowly, and I could see him filing away the details. "And if he refuses?"

"Tell him...." I swallowed, remembering the heat of Mateo degli Albizzi's eyes on my body. "Tell him I wish to make an offering to Naamah with him, away from the eyes of my protector. He won't refuse."

Lord Rocaille wouldn't approve, I knew. But perhaps he didn't need to know, yet.

Ben touched my arm. "We'll stay nearby," he said softly. "I won't let him harm you."

I shook my head. "I'll be alright. I can handle him."

"It doesn't matter." My cousin held my gaze seriously. "Lar isn't the only one I'm contracted to protect. I hope your Lord can respect that, and allow us to attend you once the King's business with the Albizzi is complete."

I thought of Reese and nodded. Samantha de Morhban might be another story, but... I'd find a way.

Across the night, the bells of the grand temple of Shemesh tolled out the lateness of the hour, audible even through the revelry. My mind marked the number without paying attention, then realized my night was over. "... I must return to my Lord. I'll stay safe, I promise."

"I'll deliver your message," Laurent said softly, and I gave him a grateful smile.

"And I'll find you tomorrow." Ben lifted my hands to his lips, holding them tightly as he pressed a kiss to my fingers.

My heart twisted, to leave him again so soon when we'd barely been reunited. It wouldn't let me leave him such, so I leaned in boldly to steal a kiss; Laurent had seen us together, anyhow. Ben stiffened against me, then relaxed, cupping my face gently and returning my kiss before regretfully pulling away. "Go."

I nodded, brushing Laurent's lips with a kiss of farewell as I rose, forcing myself not to look back as I did.

My heart was heavy as I made my way back through the palazzo, my mind busy. Not telling Lord Rocaille what I intended was a terrible betrayal - but what else was I to do?

I'd have to tell him about Laurent, at least. That John had sent him to our aid. And perhaps I'd have to come clean about the letter I'd written, telling him everything....

I slipped out the doors of the grand ballroom and onto the balcony that ringed it, shivering a little in the chill of the night air. The balcony was near-deserted - it was easy to spot my mentor and his protector standing at the other end. They both already wore their travel cloaks, and from the look of it Reese carried mine over one arm.

They stood close, as they always did, one of Reese's hands resting on Lord Rocaille's back, warm and supportive. But there was something in their body language that gave me pause. Something rather... more.

Between their masks and the darkness I couldn't make out their facial expressions. Then Reese leaned closer, and I didn't need to.

I stepped back into the shelter of the doorway, feeling my heart clench with a surprising rush of pain and longing. Not because of them, never that - there was nothing I wanted more for my broken-hearted mentor, I realized, than the gentle, tender way Reese kissed him. But it brought back in a rush how very much I ached for John, a longing that it seemed like even my cousin's presence could not abate.

I slipped back inside, smiling at the guests I passed without making eye contact until I could find a glass of wine, then tucking myself into a corner and nursing it slowly, letting it warm and calm me. Then, finally, I went back outside and made myself known to them.

They still stood intimately close; Reese drew back casually as I approached, smiling and offering my cape. "I was worried I was going to have to come look for you."

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," I replied, taking it from him. Even in the darkness it seemed as though Lord Rocaille flushed under his mask, and as I tied on my cloak I realized I couldn't bother them with my news tonight.

Instead I took the opportunity to step close to Reese as he helped me into the carriage. "You should leave the mask on tonight," I said softly. "I think he'd very much like that. It's midwinter, after all."

I caught a brief flash of surprise in Reese's eyes, then understanding. He smiled, voice soft.

"Perhaps I shall."

~~~


	9. Chapter 9

Considering how late we'd been out and what I'd done the night before, I slept late. When I finally awoke I was surprised to find that even Reese had done the same; my lord's protector had just begun his morning drills on the terrace, breath white in the early morning cold. Lady de Morhban's staff had sent in breakfast sometime earlier, and I made myself a cup of tea and curled up on the window seat to watch him. The movement of his fighting forms was fluid and expert, and not for the first time I found myself thinking about Ben. This time, though, I found myself wondering about what things had been like for Reese before we'd met. Had he left family behind, when he'd become a Cassiline? Was he called to Cassiel, like Ben had been?

He smiled when he came in and saw me watching. "You're awake early."

"We're all awake late," I pointed out, then chanced a question. "... my Lord Rocaille still sleeps?"

Reese cast me an amused glance, taking up a piece of fruit from the table. I half expected him to leave, but instead he turned the chair around, sitting down to face me. "I always try and get Harold to take more rest. He doesn't often listen."

"Perhaps these methods will prove more effective?" I suggested lightly, feeling my ears burn despite trying to remain casual.

Reese chuckled softly, low and fond. Then he grew serious, leaning forward. "What you witnessed last night... I'd very much appreciate it if you said nothing to anyone."

I returned his gaze with a slow nod. "You have my word. Reese, I care far too much for both of you to ever betray you like that." I felt a shiver of worry at that, thinking once more of Ben. "Cassiel would not approve?"

"The Cassilines would not approve," he corrected. "And I do take my vows very seriously, Daniel. But they are to Cassiel, not to the order. I accept His guidance in all things. And His will, first and foremost, is that I strive to be Harold's perfect companion. If that requires that I place one part of my vow higher than another..." he held out his hands out, palms up. "I am but an instrument of His will."

"I could always see how much you loved him," I said softly, seeing pleasure in his eyes. "Did you love Nathan, too?"

He shook his head, smile fading. "I didn't know Lord de Corbault, not personally. I was not with Harold when he died. I... was not assigned to Harold until after he died." He leaned back in his chair, gaze moving to the window behind me, distant. "I must admit I questioned Cassiel and the Order, sending me to play nursemaid to a crippled and broken-hearted man. I felt little better than that myself, in those days, and I felt unworthy to ever protect anyone again. I had been with the Duchesse de Trevalion since I was very young, and I...." he stopped, and with the shadow of despair that crossed his features, suddenly I understood.

I leaned forward, keeping my voice soft. "... was it injury or the plague that took her from you?"

"The plague," Reese replied, mouth twisting unhappily. "Something that all my skill could not fight. For a long time I wished that it had taken me, too. I don't know how or why I survived it when most of her household did not. I wasted away with the Cassilines for nearly two years before Cassiel himself sent me to Harold. I bless him daily for that, now. Harold saved me when I thought there was nothing left to save."

I was a little surprised that he would open up to me so willingly when he had in the past been so tight-lipped. Perhaps he felt amicable, in the aftermath of whatever intimacy he had found with Lord Rocaille the night before. Perhaps my lord's own admission to me of the truth of Nathan's death had caused Reese to open up himself. "Cassiel forgives, then. If his servant is not celibate in the cause of serving him."

Reese gave a small shrug. "I believe that question is between a priest and Cassiel, and no other." He regarded me, grey eyes keen. "You ask because of your cousin?"

I nodded. I had spoken to Reese of Ben a little, wanting to understand the order, but I had also tried to be cognisant of everyone's experience being different. "He's here," I admitted. "I found him last night. John sent him to Firenze as guard to another of the Night Court, to bear a message to the Albizzi."

"Here?" Reese was on his feet in an instant, heading for Lord Rocaille's rooms. "And you didn't tell us?"

"I'm telling you now," I pointed out.

"You should have told us!"

I felt briefly guilty, but that went away. We'd have spent half the night talking, if I'd shown my hand the night before, and that would have ruined whatever lovely intimacy had progressed from the kiss I'd seen. Waiting a few hours couldn't have hurt anything.

Lord Rocaille was still in his dressing gown when he limped out into the parlor. "Your cousin is here? From John?"

I told him of Laurent and the message he bore, of the instruction John had given them, watching him turn pale, then flushed in turn.

"I don't know what that boy thinks that he's doing. Currying favor with the Albizzi when we know they are the most likely source - "

"My lord," I interrupted him softly, "if John believes, as Regent, that action must be taken, perhaps we should support that? And if he is courting the Albizzi, it is a distraction. It is because he intends something different. Perhaps he intends to trust the word of Sameen de Medici."

Lord Rocaille shook his head, tight-lipped. "We cannot trust that when we have gained no assurance from her of its truth - or even the details of the information she claims she has. And in any case, I never told him...." he stopped, staring at me. "You did."

I bowed my head. "Forgive me, my lord. I thought he was owed it."

I heard an angry huff of breath. "What else have you not told me?"

"I... asked Laurent to arrange an assignation for me with Mateo degli Albizzi. Tonight. In the house of Signore Toffani."

"Elua, Daniel! Why the hell would you - "

"Because you said that I could serve!" I shot back before he could finish, feeling a rush of trembling anger as I looked up at him. "Because I saw an opportunity and took it, my lord. Because I want an end to this, so that we can all go on with the rest of our lives!"

Lord Rocaille glared back silently for a long moment. Then he finally sank down into a chair, reaching for a piece of fruit, still frowning. "I wish you'd consulted me first."

"You agreed that I could pursue him." I pointed out.

"In a formal arrangement. With a contract, negotiations. Not in some dangerous, anonymous fumble in a household that has already proven to be compromised. If anything were to happen to you..."

"I'll be alright," I said softly, realizing his fear for the first time. "I promise, my lord. And my cousin will be in attendance. I will have all the skills of the Cassiline brotherhood for my protection."

"Hmm." Harold took the cup of tea Reese had silently prepared for him, still frowning. "I suppose I should not be so worried when he likely will not agree."

I shook my head. "He will. I have baited the trap with care, my lord. I am quite certain he will take it. If I do not keep my word and attend, the damage will be irreparable." I swallowed, looking up at him. "My lord... will you brief me? Please? If I am to be successful...."

"I suppose you leave me no choice."

~~~

I prepared myself carefully that night, anointing my skin with sweet smelling oils and preparing for Naamah's rites. Then I donned my finest hose and silken shirt, a rich doublet over top. I dressed as if I were to meet the prince of the city, and in truth this man felt himself close to it.

When we arrived, a little after dark, it was easy to recognize Ben and Laurent from their familiar stature, and bright hair. Lar must have recognized me as well; he excused himself from the people he was speaking to and wove his way through the crowd to us, with Ben a shadow behind.

"Joy on Midwinter," he greeted me in Caerdicci, leaning in to give me a kiss, voice lowering. "The Signore agrees to your terms and has given us instruction. Ben will take you there."

He pressed something into my hand as he spoke, and I glanced down to find Piers' signet, which I pocketed. "Thank you."

"You will stay with us, I presume?" Lord Rocaille regarded him cooly through the eyes of his mask, and I hoped he wouldn't be too hard on Laurent.

"It would be my pleasure, my lord."

Ben was silent as he lead me through the house, out of the crowd of revelers and down the steps to the lower level. I was reminded of the time we'd met Sameen de Medici, and felt even more uneasy when the empty room Ben took me to was the very same storage room, still half full of barrels and crates. The table was removed, replaced with a plain, straw-stuffed mattress - clearly Mateo meant us to share none of the splendor of the room he'd shared with Laurent.

But clearly Mateo was showing his hand, acknowledging me as a challenge to be conquered. Clearly I was on the right track.

"I don't like it here," Ben growled softly, looking around the room. I moved to bar the outside door, then shook my head, touching his arm.

"I'll be alright when I'm with him. I can handle him, Ben. Trust me. But if he arrives with anyone else...." I looked around the hallway outside, trying to remember the layout of the Palazzo. "We run. That way. There's a door to the outside and a service staircase upstairs. Alright?"

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly, still frowning. "You deserve better than this."

"Of course. But..." I caught his gaze, hesitating for a long moment. "I need you to promise me something. Ben, I... I can't be certain what games I will need to play with him, not without a contract. Whatever happens - if I don't yell for you, you need to leave me be. Alright?"

"Daniel, if he hurts you - "

"Please," I stressed again, taking his hand in both of mine. "I won't get another chance at this, Ben. Promise me."

For a moment I thought he'd refused, his nostrils flaring, skin flushed. "Give me a _signale_ , then. And promise me that you'll use it if you need me." 

"Heliotrope," I said without thinking twice: the base of my marque, the house that would have taken him in if he hadn't gone to the Cassilines. _Devotion_. "And you have my word."

He gave a sharp nod. "Alright. Go inside then. Laurent's instruction was that he would be along shortly."

I nodded and stepped back into the room, closing the door behind me and leaving Ben to guard the outside. It was the roughest place I'd ever taken an assignation, but that didn't matter. I took off my boots and doublet, setting them aside, and knelt _abeyante_ a few feet from the mattress, calling on all of my childhood's Cereus discipline to still myself and wait.

He kept me waiting for a little over a quarter of an hour, long enough to reinforce the sense I'd already begun to take of the man: he was a man in charge, who demanded deference. When the door in front of me opened, I bowed my head lower, keeping my eyes downcast as he swept into the room and closed the door behind him.

For a long moment he was silent, pressing my patience. Then he stalked forward, fingers tangling in my hair to yank my head back to look up at him. I let out a gasp, lips parting alluringly as I met his gaze.

"You wear a mask tonight, my little D'Angeline whore."

"My lord, I embrace the traditions of the Caerdicci. Tonight I am no-one, and I may do as I wish."

"Instead of the wishes of your patron."

"My lord does not need to know the pleasures I seek over midwinter. You saw as much last night, my lord."

Mateo degli Albizzi gave a hum, bringing his other hand forward to cup my face as he regarded me. "I saw a desperate little whore fucking himself on the first cock that would have him. Is that something I should desire? The King of Terre D'Ange has already sent me one of his whores to curry my favor. A very flexible whore. A whore that he hasn't cast off. Why should I care to waste my time with you?"

Cast off? Was that how he had assessed me? I wet my lips deliberately. "My lord, the king of Terre D'Ange employs many whores, and Laurent is indeed one of the best. But Lord Rocaille holds my marque in trust for Naamah, not the King. It is he who controls my service, and he who has brought me as tribute to the Princes of Firenze. Laurent has trained in one of the thirteen houses of the Night Court... my lord, I have trained in all thirteen. I alone of the Servants of Naamah am uniquely qualified to give you _anything you want_."

Mateo's eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded me, dark and hungry. "And yet you approach me without a contract."

"Tonight I ask only for the payment of my Lord's favor."

"Like the cretin whose ring you gave me?"

"Lord Elton spoke highly of your Lordship as the man to ally oneself with in Firenze."

"He wasn't wrong." Mateo's fingers tightened in my hair, pulling my head back more, and I closed my eyes, body arched taut and trembling. Trading words with such a man was thrilling, and the gift of Naamah's passion warmed in my veins - I didn't have to fake the whimper I gave at his show of force.

"So you propose that I tell you how I want you, and you will pretend to give it to me," Mateo murmured, low and thick, and I drew a shuddering breath.

"No pretense, my lord. What you want is to have the most accomplished D'Angeline courtesan quivering at your feet, desperate to please you. I am all of that. Naamah has made me for kings, my lord. Well you deny me that pleasure with you?"

Looking down on me, Mateo drew his thumb along my lips, pushing it past them, pulling open my mouth. I struggled to suck at the invading digit with a breathless moan, and when he smiled I knew I'd caught him. "You're a true courtier aren't you?" He murmured, finally releasing his grip on my hair, cupping my head in both hands. Finally I could see how hard my proposal had made him, his cock straining at the front of his breeches. "Aligning yourself to the powerful men in the world. I'm surprised you bothered with Elton. He's nothing, you know. A desperate man, easily used."

"He... was my first, my lord,"

"Before the King of Terre D'Ange?"

"Yes, my Lord." I let myself adopt a hint of a smirk. "Every craftsman must start his apprenticeship somewhere."

Mateo's fingers raked through my hair. "I hope your bravado isn't misplaced, little whore."

Pulling against his control, I leaned forward to press my face to his thigh, nuzzling the line of his cock through his breeches. "Why don't you take your pleasure of my mouth and find out?"

He gave a low groan, tangling his fingers in my hair, pushing my face into his cock. I moaned at the show of force, mouthing and sucking at his cock through his pants. Then, abruptly, he pulled me away. "One more thing. The man who guards you, who arrived here with the King's whore. He's your family? And a Cassiline?"

"Cousin, my lord. And yes."

"Good." He opened the door, staring Ben down. My cousin was dressed more plainly than the night before, more obviously a guard and less a reveler, and I thought, from the way Mateo regarded him, that he did not recognize Ben from my display for him the evening before. "They say your priesthood gives vows of celibacy to your patron god. Is that true?"

Ben's eyes looked guarded behind his mask. "...it is, my lord."

Mateo gave a hum of acknowledgement. Then he stepped back. "Good. Stand inside. I want you to watch me fuck him."

For a moment neither of us responded, stunned. I cleared my throat softly. "My lord, surely..."

"You told me you could give me anything I wanted. That you would know what I wanted. Was that a lie, little whore? Or does your ability and influence not even extend far enough for your own guard to obey you?"

I swallowed hard. To leave would lose any chance with him. I rose fluidly, ignoring the incredulous look Ben was giving me, trying wildly to think of some way to express myself, to gain his agreement to such a thing. Finally I bowed low over his hand. "As Naamah went to bed with the King of Persia for the sake of the Blessed Elua, I pray this servant of Cassiel will provide for me the same sacrifice."

Ben's mouth twisted unhappily, but he gave a sharp nod. "I serve and protect," he said quietly, and Mateo gave a barked, approving laugh, pulling him into the room and shutting the door.

I wish I could say it was a pleasant thing to watch. Mateo degli Albizzi's pleasure alternated between making demands of my services and simply taking what he wanted, ruling the room without contention. He wasn't the first patron I'd had who'd desired to master me, but all the others had been disclosed and negotiated games of pretend. With him it was real, and though Naamah gave me the strength and desire to go to him willingly I wasn't entirely certain that things would have gone any differently if I'd asked him to stop. I couldn't look at Ben, a silent but ever constant presence in the corner. I couldn't allow myself to think about how he must feel, what watching me must be like. I had to focus completely and entirely on my patron, and pray that it was enough to please him.

In the end, it was what he'd wanted.

After spilling inside me, Mateo flipped me onto my back and pushed back into me, gaze dark and glittering. "I want to watch you spill for me, little whore. Give me that vision again."

Though the grace of Naamah I'd managed to maintain my arousal, though that had much to do with the disciplines I'd learned in Valerian house of embracing the intensity of dominance and discomfort. I wrapped my fingers around my cock with a breathless whimper, holding his gaze as I stroked myself. "Oh yes, please watch me, my lord..." I managed to gasp, thinking of how he'd seen us the night before. The memory of being with Ben sent a pulse of remembered desire before me, and I moaned breathlessly, stroking my cock more firmly.

Mateo ground his hips against me, still hard enough to make me cry out from the rush of sensation. "You look better than I could have dreamed, with my cock inside you," he panted, and that brief proof of my success with him was the strongest pleasure I could have imagined. I came undone with a mewling cry, clenching down around his softening cock, body arched and trembling as I stroked my release to fall on my chest and stomach.

For a long, blissful moment I needed to do nothing but catch my breath, languid in the aftermath of orgasm. Then I felt a fingertip draw over my chest, and looked up at him through my eyelashes to see him lick the slick of my seed from his fingers. He gave a low, contemplative hum, drawing away from me. "Turn over."

Surely he couldn't want me again so soon? I remembered Laurent staying with him for a second round and forced away sudden panic. "My lord, forgive me. Your passions have overwhelmed me."

"Don't think to deny me," he replied with a smirk. "But don't worry, little whore. I simply want to look at the flowers on your skin."

That I could do. I turned over with as much grace as I could, kneeling on the straw mattress and curling forward to present my marque to him, shivering as he ran his fingers up my spine.

"This is far more complex than the one Laurent wears."

"Laurent was trained in one house, my lord," I reminded him. "I have trained in all. These are the blooms that I wear, and the debt I carry to Naamah."

"A debt nearly paid," he mused, fingers still tracing the designs, moving to the unlimned skin at the back of my neck. "Which is the house whose skills you leveraged tonight?"

I swallowed. "Valerian, my lord. Where Naamah takes pleasure in yielding completely to the mastery and demands of her patrons."

"I think I should like to visit that house someday," he mused, fingers dipping lower, and I couldn't help but give a soft laugh at his words.

"My lord, you would be a grander patron of Valerian than any D'Angeline," I told him, grateful that he did not know what else they did at Valerian.

"Good," he said, and pushed two fingers inside me, a rush of sensation that made me cry out as he twisted them. Then he withdrew. "I have not torn you, which is good. I would have you again tomorrow. Come to the square of the Signoria and wait near the great golden statue of Shemesh. You will know me from the blue of my costume, and the blue Bauto I will wear." He rose from the mattress, beginning to dress. "Come prepared as you were tonight, and wear that delightful tunic you wore last night."

That he would ask for me again so soon was far more than I'd hoped. I sat up to look at him. "I will need to bring my guard with me."

Mateo cast a glance to Ben with a smirk. "I expected nothing less." Then he pulled two purses from his coat - one which he cast down onto the mattress next to me, the smaller at Ben's feet. "I pay my whores, contract or no."

I cast a sharp look to Ben, who closed his mouth again, fuming. Then I rose to my feet. "My lord is generous. And what of the other payment I ask for?"

"My favor?" Mateo cupped my cheek with a hand, regarding me for a long moment, running his thumb over my lips. "There are still tales told of the last D'Angeline courtesan who thought to ally herself with the princes of the world, and the kingdoms that rose and fell because of her. Is that the game you mean to play, little whore? Or does your goddess drive your needs? The way you shuddered when I fucked you...." his eyes narrowed, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Perhaps your appetites are more like Phedre no Delaunay than you let on."

I swallowed hard. "I cannot claim her blessing, my lord. Pain does not drive my pleasure. But passion does. My lord's passion and the power compel me equally. So as long as my lord maintains his position I need play no games with my devotion."

He gave an approving hum, leaning in to claim my mouth for the first time, slow and possessive. "Then I will bestow my favor for as long as you continue to please me, little whore," he murmured, then released me and left, the tap of boot heels on the stone fading.

"Why the hell would you agree to see him again when he gave you nothing?" Ben exploded when he was out of barely out of earshot. "Elua, Daniel! You - "

I opened my mouth to stop his tirade, but was suddenly far too exhausted to say anything. I'd been running on adrenaline for the entire assignation, I realized as my knees gave out, sinking down weakly onto the stone floor.

Immediately Ben was at my side, cradling me close, supporting me, and I let myself sag into his support. I could hear his voice worriedly, and managed to force my attention to him. "I'm alright," I managed. "I'm alright. Just... just hold me...."

"I've got you," he murmured, arms tight around me and lips pressed to my hair. "I've got you. You're safe. You're safe."

His fingers stroked gentle over my hair, arms warm and strong around me, enough that my pulse began to slow, the world becoming less overwhelming. "I'm sorry I made you watch that," I whispered, and Ben shook his head, kissing my hair again.

"No. No, I - I'd rather be with you. If I could help you... Elua, Daniel, is Naamah's service always like that?"

I gave a soundless laugh, shaking my head. "No. No, I have never had a patron like him. And Elua willing, I never will again."

"Then why - "

I reached up to press my fingers to his lips. "Come to the house of the Lady Samantha de Morhban. We can host you and Laurent. Then I can tell you more."

He nodded, kissing my fingers. "Take his money, all of it. Surely you are close to being able to pay off your marque, all that remains is the finial...."

"I am. But... I have not yet paid my debt to Naamah." I pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "Please take it. You must still need to pay your marque, somehow."

Ben was non-committal, but helped me dress, and when we went to leave the room his purse was gone.

I could only pray that it hasn't changed anything between us.

~~~


	10. Chapter 10

Laurent and Ben arrived at the house of Samantha de Morhban late in that day, and settled in the wing she had given us. Lord Rocaille interrogated both of them on their interactions with John, as thoroughly as he did me at the end of any assignation, and by the end of it I was certain the assessment I had made was correct. John meant to flatter and seduce the Albizzi as a distraction to whatever he had planned. But of that, I was still uncertain; the letter he'd sent with Lar had no coded message beyond its words.

That night I went to the Signoria and let Mateo degli Albizzi push me up against the wall of a narrow alley with barely two words of greeting, fucking me in public where anyone could discover us. Ben stood beside me, his back turned as he kept guard, though I was certain that not seeing spared him nothing.

This time I was more prepared to play Mateo's game of submission and surrender. I gasped and whimpered encouragements as he drove into me roughly, the cold stones rubbing my forearms raw as I braced myself on them, pushing back against his cock. He held me tight around my waist as he used me, growling debasements into my ear and working my cock with rough strokes. True to my word I had to fake little; the mix of stimulation and shame drew me to climax embarrassingly quickly. Mateo clearly reveled in it, words turning from debasements to gasped praise, and he came soon after.

"It wasn't just bravado, was it?" he murmured against my skin afterwards, the weight of his body pressing me into the wall. "You are truly remarkable, my little whore. Truly fit for princes."

"My lord honors me with his praise and his pleasure," I managed to respond, trying to stop from trembling as my pulse slowed. "Will you allow me to serve you more?"

"Not tonight," he replied. "But I will make an honest whore out of you when next we meet. Tell your lord to expect an invitation to my palazzo for the day after tomorrow, and a contract for your services. I will be hosting revels on the longest night, and I wish to have you on my arm, with your guard to attend you." He drew away from me, turning me to pull me into his arms and claim my mouth, again sealing our assignation with a possessive kiss. He tucked a purse into my hand. "Don't worry, little whore. I will be generous enough that your lord will not refuse."

"Thank you, my lord," I replied, and he left, again tucking a small purse into Ben's hand, taking no notice that my cousin glared after him with open hatred.

He turned to me as soon as Mateo was out of the alley and out of sight, again supporting me with an arm around my waist as I sagged against him. "I did not expect him to take you in public," he growled. "You shouldn't have let him."

I shook my head, grateful for the solidity of his form and the wall behind me. Why did it take so much out of me to go up against him? And could I really do it for a third night? "I let him because it endears him to me. Because the more he desires me and thinks of me only as an object for his desire, the more careless he will become with me."

"And you really think this can help...."

I touched my fingers to his lips. "It already has. Ben... please take me home. I... I need to be away from all this now."

He nodded, unable to hide the misery from his gaze, silent throughout the journey home. It worried me, but I was too exhausted to pry, accepting the support of his arm around my waist and leaning gratefully into him. The Lady de Morhban's estate was quiet apart from the guard at the gate, who let us in, and I let Ben take me into my room, not complaining as he fussed over me, washing me and dressing me for bed, applying a moisturizing salve to my forarms, which were reddened but thankfully not terribly abraised.

Finally he rose to leave without saying a word, and before I could think I'd reached out to catch his hand. "Ben...."

He stopped, closing his eyes for a moment and letting out a long breath. Then he looked down at me, cradling my hand with both of his. "Yes, my dearest."

I swallowed, throat suddenly tight. "Stay with me."

His lips tightened, shifting against each other in obvious conflict. "Daniel, I...."

"Just to sleep," I added quickly. "Please. It's been so long...."

Ben sank down again to perch on the side of the bed, his eyes suddenly bright. "I don't know if I can keep watching him treat you like that," he whispered in a rush. "I don't know if I'm strong enough. Elua, Daniel...."

A soft moan of dismay escaped my lips, and I sat to press close to him, winding my arms around his neck. "I'm so sorry, Ben. I shouldn't have asked you to...."

"Don't go back to him," he whispered, blinking two fat tears from his lashes that rolled down his cheeks. "Please. This is not what Naamah intended, it can't be." He stroked his fingers through my hair, choking helplessly on his breath.

I could have told him that the gods had asked far more of others, for far less. But he knew those stories as well as I. And that wasn't what he needed. Instead I pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, his cheeks, kissing the tears from his eyes. "Lay with me and find comfort in love," I whispered, and Ben choked back a harsh laugh.

"You're not going back to work tonight, and I don't ever want to be your patron. Just... just tell me you know what you're doing, tell me this isn't all in vain."

I let my forehead rest against his, closing my eyes. Could I really be certain of it, as much as I wanted it to be true? I let out a long breath, heart willing a silent plea to Naamah for reassurance. Immediately I felt it, as strong as I had the day we'd been dedicated. For a brief moment the beat of a dove's wings eclipsed everything, a thrumming rush against my eardrums. I opened my eyes. "In Naamah's name, I swear it."

Ben swallowed hard, blinking two more tears free, and nodded. "Then I will serve and protect with my life," he whispered. "I... I want to be your perfect companion, more than anything. Only... please forgive me this weakness. I didn't know how hard it would be to see you like that."

"When this is done I swear I will make it up to you," I whispered, stroking his cheek. "I promise. I'm so sorry, my love...."

Ben shook his head, kissing me gently, then urging me back down into bed. "It's not your fault. Rest, alright? I'll be alright tomorrow."

Even if I'd wanted to argue, exhaustion was setting in fast. "You'll stay?" I whispered, and he nodded, kissing my eyelids.

"I love you," he whispered, and I drifted off to sleep in his arms.

~~~

 

Sometime a little before dawn I awoke, the sky through the windows just beginning to brighten. For a brief moment I was thirteen again, curled close to my cousin in Balm house, without a care in the world. Quickly reality came back, though, and I closed my eyes with a sigh, cuddling closer to him.

Sleep did not come easily again. How could it, with Ben pressed so close to me? The emotion and uncertainty of our conversation the night before churned anxious in the pit of my stomach, my heart aching to find a way, somehow, to console him. Added to that was the memory of his touch - too vivid, my longing for more too great. It was too easy to remember the passion of our reunion, and soon I was achingly hard with wanting, trying to summon the willpower to stay still and not wake him, 

He shifted against me, arm tightening around my waist. "You're awake, aren't you?" he whispered, and I gave in, turning into him and pressing closer, turning my face up to claim a trembling kiss from his lips. 

Ben wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against him, and I arched into the pleasure of his body without restraint, pressing my cock into his hip. He gave a low, helpless moan. "We shouldn't do this," he whispered, even as his hand slid up the back of my nightshirt. "Daniel...."

"I'm sorry," I breathed, turning my lips up to his. "I can't stop wanting you. I tried, I can't - Ben, please...."

"I can't be like _him,_ " he whispered back helplessly, and I moaned, mournful that he could even think such a thing.

"You aren't, you won't be," I promised, pressing sweet kisses to his mouth. "You could never, Ben. Your love is so sweet, and so great. And I... I love you too much to ever let it be like that with us. I need that love now. Please...."

He gave a soft groan against my mouth, fingers tightening on my ass. "Being with you feels as though Naamah has given me all these years of desire back at once," he breathed, and pushed me onto my back without warning, slotting himself between my thighs. My nightshirt rode up, and it was easy to pull his higher, to feel the hard length of his cock press into my stomach as he rocked against me. "You know I can't say no to you. I've never been able to say no to you."

"Then make love to me," I whispered, and Ben gave a helpless groan, kissing me with eager need.

If I'd thought myself helpless to desire at the party it was nothing like now, being alone with him, with every possibility open to us. Each one of Naamah's skills and teachings was at my disposal, and yet still I felt as desperate for him as a man starved, pouring oil into my fingers and stroking a generous amount around the thick girth of his cock. "Please," I whispered again, twisting my fingers around him even as I pulled my thighs up against his sides. "Ben, please..."'

"I don't want to hurt you," he moaned, gaze anguished, and I shook my head, drawing him down into my kisses.

"You won't. You won't, I promise. Please, cousin...."

Ben gave a choked, desperate noise against my mouth. Then he was pulling my legs up higher and pushing into me, driving deep with insistent rocks until he was finally sheathed to the hilt, gasping helplessly against my mouth as he curled over me. Again he overwhelmed me, the thickness of his cock nearly too much to handle. But it was far, far different than the uncaring roughness of Signore Albizzi; Ben was slow and gentle, though I could feel him tremble as he clung to self-control. Again my desire for him won out, and I fought to grind up against him, thighs clamped tight against his sides. "Gods, Ben - !"

"Shhh..." Ben stole my cry with a kiss, trembling as he started to move in me slowly. He wrapped one arm under my hips, leaving me dangling and near helpless to the push of his cock. I hadn't truly realized until then how much stronger than I he'd become, and the realization stoked my need even more. I clung to him, heels pressing into the top of his ass, angling my hips so that each push of his cock was the most exquisite rush of pleasure.

"Is it good like this?" he gasped, and I whimpered affirmative, biting my lip on a cry at another rush of pleasure.

"Gods yes. Just like this. Ah, Elua!"

"My dearest," he whispered thickly, stealing breathless kisses from my mouth that quickly grew more distracted as the rock of his hips grew faster. I could feel his body, tense, trembling, breath in little helpless groans. "Gods, Daniel - I can't - "

"Don't hold back," I gasped, riding the edge. "Give yourself to me. My love - brother - ah!" Letting myself gasp the word was surprisingly visceral, and then I was falling, shuddering around his cock with the ecstacy of my release as Ben stuttered deep, spilling inside me with a helpless cry. It was exquisite, so lovely after everything else I'd endured, and I clung to him, keeping my legs tight around him, never wanting to let him go.

"You shouldn't call me that," he whispered when he could speak again, but despite his words his hips pushed against me, sending another shudder of sensation across my tired nerves.

"But you like it when I do," I breathed, stroking his cheek. "And I... I like it when I do."

"Would your king?" he asked softly, conflicted, and I felt a rush of uncertainty. Some of it must have reflected in my expression, for Ben shook his head, kissing my forehead, my nose. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I just can't help but feel like I've caused you nothing but trouble since I've come here. This, and now your patron uses me to shame you...."

"It doesn't," I said truthfully, pulling his mouth back to mine. "I only regret it for the pain it causes you. I..." I took a soft breath, finally knowing how I could help him. "It makes me stronger, knowing that you're with me. Can you forgive me for that?"

Ben drew back, brows knitting together. "... truthfully? You're not just saying that?"

I shook my head. "I swear it. I only wish... I wish it didn't hurt you so."

Ben sighed, leaning in to kiss me gently. "I can bear it, my dearest. If it helps you, I can bear it. I'll be with you. No matter what."

Relieved, I let myself relax into his kisses, speaking little as we curled together in bed. When a knock that came at the door it was so light that I almost missed it; only the soft noise that followed of someone clearing their throat drew my attention. I felt a sudden spike of panic, which abated when the door to my room was pushed open to only reveal Laurent.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "I don't mean to interrupt. Only... I covered for you last night, so I thought, ah, that Ben might like to return to his room. One of the Lady de Morhban's men came in a few hours ago with news. I think she will come to wake Lord Rocaille early. So...." He seemed strangely nervous, not quite looking at us, and I couldn't quite understand why.

"Of course," Ben said, pressing a soft kiss to my mouth before rising, tugging his shirt back down and gathering the other clothes he'd discarded when I'd convinced him to stay with me the night before. When he turned away I saw Lar cast his gaze to him, and for a brief moment there was so much longing in his gaze that suddenly I understood.

"Thank you," Ben said to him, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, and Lar's expression was carefully neutral again. Oblivious, Ben gave me a sweet smile and slipped out of the room.

I called out before Laurent could follow. "Lar, wait for a moment..." I sat up, tugging my nightshirt back into place, suddenly at a loss of what to say as he looked at me expectantly.

I'd been so happy, when I'd found out that John had sent them to Firenze together. When I'd seen them together, seen that they'd obviously grown close and comfortable in each other's company on their journey. I'd wanted that for both of them... I hadn't realized that it was more than that for Lar. "Thank you," I said finally. "For... John. I know how much he's always enjoyed your company. I... it meant a lot to me, knowing that... that someone I considered a friend was with him."

Lar nodded, still hovering awkwardly halfway between my bed and the door. Then he took a slow step forward, looking down at me seriously. "Daniel... you do love him, don't you? Truly?"

For a moment I was astonished that he could even ask such a thing. Then I thought about everything he'd witnessed since arriving. I felt my ears heat and looked down. "I do," I murmured. "More than I ever imagined was possible. I swear to you, my love for him has always been true. But I...." I looked towards the door Ben had left through, then shook my head helplessly. "I've loved Ben since I was born, and losing him.... I swear he doesn't change how I feel for John. But... I can't forget that love."

Lar sighed, sinking down onto the foot of my bed. "I just don't want to see John hurt," he murmured, and I leaned closer to him, reaching out to cover his hand with mine.

"I couldn't bear to," I said, holding his gaze. "You love him too, don't you?"

One corner of Lar's mouth twitched up into a small half-smile. "I don't think it's possible to not love him," he admitted. "That charm, that... voracity. It's endearing. I think he's always been my favorite patron. For a while I wished I didn't like you so much, so that I could at least be respectably jealous of you. But I'm not in love with him. I know that now."

"Because you're in love with Ben." The words left my lips before I could stop them, and Lar's gaze shot back to mine, stricken, face going pale.

"No," he said quickly. "No, don't be ridiculous. I hardly know him, I only just met him on this trip. I can't fall in love with a Cassiline, I couldn't ask him to compromise his vows. Not that I'm saying there's anything wrong with - ah - the things - whatever's between you is none of my business, Daniel, I - "

"Ben has sworn no vow of celibacy," I said quietly, squeezing his hand gently to try and ground him. "I would not compromise that if he had, any more than you would."

Lar's brows knit. "What do you mean, he hasn't - how is that possible?"

I shook my head. "It's not my story to tell. But if you'd like, I can ask him to tell you." I wasn't sure what Lar knowing the truth would lead to, only that I suddenly wanted him to know. Like with John, if there was anyone in the world I would trust with Ben, I knew without a doubt that person was Laurent no Eglantine, my talented, sensual friend. But unlike John, Ben was a far different creature... and there would need to be far more to the idea of him and Lar together than just a simple assignation.

"It's... alright," Lar said slowly, though I could see his mind working behind the brows that still knit in concentration. Then he gave me a small smile. "Thank you... I think. I'll think on it. And... I'll still cover for you. Whenever you need me to."

"Thank you," I whispered, and leaned in to kiss him, remembering with a hint of fond nostalgia the pleasure I'd once found at his hands and wondering if there were some way to have that again.

It certainly couldn't make things any more complicated than they already were.

~~~

 

The news that the Lady de Morhban's man brought in the morning was such that I forgot to mention Signore Albizzi's intentions. House Courcel, he told us, had left the City of Elua with a large retinue and half the court, and were on their way to Marsilikos to celebrate the marriage of Princess Anna to the son of the Lady of Marsilikos, Niels de Mereliot.

I stared at Samantha de Morhban over the breakfast table, stunned. "But... he's so much older than she is!"

"He's been your patron," Reese pointed out with a wry smile.

"Well yes, but that was just my service," I argued, though in truth I rather wished I'd seen Niels more. He'd been a delightfully passionate and attentive patron, and I'd been glad when through my involvement with him I'd finally been able to satisfy Lord Rocaille's worry that his family had something to do with the death of John's mother. Marsilikos was the closest D'Angeline city to Lucca and had been their last stay of note on that final, fatal trip.

"He's as good a choice as any other," Samantha remarked with a shrug. "D'Angelines will appreciate the show of favor within our borders, and securing the line of succession. Fifteen years difference is hardly anything out of the ordinary with a political marriage. Both Giovanna de Medici and Francesa degli Albizzi are barely fifteen, Anna's much older than they."

I didn't much like both of the girls their families were trying to thrust at John weren't even old enough to serve in the Night Court, though I didn't point it out. "I suppose."

"What of May?" Lar said softly, and I remembered him telling me how our sweet friend had found favor with the princess.

"Anna will hardly be the first D'Angeline royal to have both a royal wedded spouse and a royal consort, and Elua smiles on both as long as all parties enter into such an agreement with a true and willing heart." Lord Rocaille glanced to me. "Elua willing, it won't be the last time it happens in this generation." 

I felt my ears heat, and lowered my head. "I suppose it will also take some of the pressure off him to marry."

"And give us more time," Lord Rocaille agreed. "It's a wise move."

I nodded, though something in the pit of my stomach told me that wasn't his intention at all. But with nothing to go on other than intuition, I held my tongue.

As he'd promised, a generous contract from Signore Albizzi arrived later that afternoon, along with the invitation for his masque on the longest night, for both Lord Rocaille and the Lady de Morhban. Fortunately Lord Rocaille was pleased to gain access to the house - my gamble with Mateo had finally begun to pay off for him.

The last thing that arrived was just as unexpected as the first - a letter from Piers Elton, who, true to his word, had followed me to Firenze and taken up residence in the city as a guest of the Albizzi. He begged an assignation as soon as possible, and I discussed the response with Lord Rocaille for some time.

"I think I should," I told him finally. "I did give him my word, back home, that I would consider it."

"You are considering it," he pointed out. "Are you certain you want to waste time with him when he can't give you anything else of value?"

I nodded. "He can help me give Signore Albizzi a gentle reminder that I am not his personal plaything. That has value."

"If it does not enrage your target," Lord Rocaille pointed out warningly.

I wet my lips, considering him again in my mind. "... it will. But it will drive his desire for me even more. I can weather those consequences."

"If you're certain," Lord Rocaille spoke, and I nodded.

"Have another contract for him at the ready. I want to go to him while he's still angry."

For a long moment Lord Rocaille looked at me, and I was certain that he would refuse me. Then he nodded slowly. "I will defer to your judgement. Just... please be careful."

It was one of the many things on my mind as I prepared for the Longest Night, not the least of which was John's plans in Marsilikos. I wanted to voice my suspicions to Lord Rocaille, but was wary of jumping to conclusions that could cause him to act rashly. Finally I slipped out of our rooms and sought Lady de Morhban, who welcomed me into her rooms despite the fact that she was dressed only in a dressing gown, one of her ladies in waiting arranging her hair into an elaborate coiff.

She gave me a curious smile. "Have you changed your mind about my tutelage?" she teased. "You certainly seem to have Mateo wrapped around your little finger."

"I hope so," I said softly, feeling anxious. "My lady de Morhban - "

"Just Sam, I told you. We're too close in age to stand on ceremony."

"Are we?"

"Are you calling me old?" She grinned, and I felt my ears burn.

"Surely not from your looks, my lady. Sam. I only mean that you have accomplished so much for one so young...?

"I fostered at house Rocaille up until a year before Lord de Corbeau's death, when I left for the University of Tiber. You'd do well there, you know. Even if you didn't allow yourself to be recruited for the guild. But I promised Harry I wouldn't speak of that. What's on your mind?"

I wet my lips, running over my suspicions in my mind. Even though the Lady de Morhban had been the most gracious host, I was painfully aware of her own clandestine activities, and hesitant to reveal too much. "I was wondering... the sacred time of Midwinter is nearly over. After the Longest Night, Shemesh begins to return the sun to the sky, and the citizens of Firenze remove their masks to see the sun again. Correct?"

She nodded. "And the relative quiet we've enjoyed in the feud of the Families will end."

I mirrored her nod, worrying more. "The worship of Shemesh bans violence during Midwinter. When midwinter is over, if someone was to... to need guaranteed protection outside of the walls of your house, my lady - Sam...." I looked up at her, letting a hint of fear and helplessness show through. "Where would I go?"

"If Signore Albizzi gets out of control?" She leaned forward, gaze serious, not caring for her maid's noise of displeasure as it disturbed her half-finished hair. "Harry believes you have him in hand. Do you need help, Daniel?"

"Not... yet. I just want to make sure I have a plan B."

She nodded, leaning back again. "Go to the temple of Shemesh. Any temple of Shemesh is a sanctuary, though the main one is the most well-connected. You'll be safe there."

I'd heard of far worse than just murder being done in sanctuary temples. "Forgive me if I distrust the power of the priesthood when it comes to powerful men, my lady...."

She chuckled, giving an errant wave of her hand. "No, I'm with you. It's not the priests that provide protection, it's Shemesh. We're not the only country protected by our gods, you know. Any weapon taken into the temple main is destroyed. The last time someone tried to harm another in a temple resulted in burns so terrible all over their body that they nearly died from it. Go to a temple, if you need help. Trust me."

"Thank you," I said to her, and left.

~~~

I found a moment to pull Ben and Laurent into my room before Ben and I were due to leave for the evening, telling them what I'd learned from the Lady de Morhban. I glanced towards the door to my bedroom, firmly shut, and lowered my voice anyway. "Please keep what I'm going to tell you to yourself. If he knew what John intended, Lord Rocaille would overreact, show everyone's hand. It... would be bad."

Lar's eyebrows knit. "You know what John has planned?"

"I... suspect." I wet my lips nervously. "I think Marsilikos is a smokescreen. I think he's coming here, to meet with Sameen de Medici."

Lar paled. "The families have intelligence everywhere. They'll know."

I gave a small nod. "John will expect that, he'll take precautions. Whether or not they'll be enough...." I shrugged helplessly. "Keep your ears open, please. If he comes... we have to be ready to protect him."

~~~


	11. Chapter 11

"Welcome to my household, my little whore." Mateo degli Albizzi sat in a large marble bathing tub, and held a hand out to me as I was shown into his room, his gaze dark with want. "Come. Undress and bathe with me. Then my servants will ready you for the evening." He looked to the man that attended him. "Go, and take the others. Only my guest's guard will stay."

I cast a brief, apologetic look at Ben, and went. By the time I'd undressed and joined Mateo I was unsurprised to find him already hard, and he pulled me down to straddle his lap, hands hungry on my body. He didn't kiss me - he'd never yet kissed me before taking me - and in moments I was arched back over the marble edge of the tub with my legs against his shoulders as he drove into me with possessive want, sloshing water onto the floor with little care. Again he growled debasements as he used me, eagerness and passion growing as he did. "Touch yourself, you dirty little cock slut," he ordered. "Make yourself come as I fuck your tight little ass."

Coming first was never pleasant, but like in the square, it wasn't difficult, Naamah's gifts quickening my pleasure as I called on them. I gasped his name as I drew myself over the crest, not trying to hold back my whimpers as he continued to use my over-sensitive body. Like in the square, it somehow turned something in him, and he pulled me close as he jerked up into me, ragged with the need to come. "Such a good boy," he gasped, finding my mouth for a kiss and quickly spilling inside me.

He was even more tender afterwards, curling around me at the edge of the bath, drinking in long, slow kisses. "Such a good boy," he whispered again, trailing kisses along my jaw. "Taking my cock so willingly, so desperately... truly fit for a king, my darling. Part of me wishes I had no party to host so that I could keep you here and enjoy this exquisite ass of yours without restraint for the rest of the evening."

I had no doubt that if given the opportunity Mateo degli Albizzi would ensure I could barely walk the next day. "If it pleases you, my lord...."

"I'll make up for it later," he said with a smirk, and pulled away, calling for his manservant to return. Then he watched from the tub as I was washed and dried, the manservant finally presenting me with a fold of silk.

"That's for tonight," Mateo told me, pleasure in his eyes as he watched. "I want everyone to see the treasure I've obtained."

Swallowing hard, I let the length of silk fall open, finding it to be nothing but a pair of loose pants, slit up the sides, the silk so fine it was partly sheer. I'd seen such costumes before in the night court, meant to mimic the hareems in Khebbel-im-Akkad. I'd never thought to wear one myself, especially not in front of people who I'd previously asked to recognize me as a peer. "My lord," I heard myself say faintly, "It is considered uncouth for a servant of Naamah to display his marque when it is unfinished."

"Then it is well we are not in Terre D'Ange," he replied with a smirk, rising from the bath and heading out of the room, taking no care for the puddles he left on the marble as his manservant rushed to attend him. "Don't worry, little whore. You'll have a mask. After all, tonight we are no-one."

The mask ended up being a matching silk veil and did little more than pay lip service to the hiding of my identity. "If you want to call this off..." Ben said softly when we were alone, and I shook my head, touching his cheek briefly before tying it into place.

"I'll be alright," I murmured, and gave myself over to being Mateo degli Albizzi's display of power.

I didn't need to fake subservience, not in that outfit, feeling exposed and vulnerable. I spent most of the evening kneeling at Mateo's feet while guests came to talk and curry favor with the powerful Albizzi. Frequently Mateo would show me off, having me stand and turn like a show horse, the loose silk whispering against my skin, as I moved, leaving little to the imagination.

"The D'Angelines are truly holding back from us, if this is what their whores are like," someone said at one point. "Look how he trembles to obey you, my lord! Can you imagine the women? I'd like five of those."

"Ah, but D'Angeline whores serve royalty, not common traders." Mateo's fingers clenched painfully around my upper arm, pushing me back to my knees. "Tell them truly why you tremble, my little whore."

I swallowed hard. "My Lord Albizzi's power overwhelms me," I murmured, leaning into his touch as his fingers stroked through my hair. "I submit only to the prince of this city, for the glory of Naamah."

"Well you've certainly trained your whore well, Albizzi," another man laughed. "If only we could do the same with their king!"

I bristled at his words, but hid it, hoping he'd say more. Unfortunately he moved on, and so did the night.

At one point Mateo moved to dine with a large party of the revelers, pulling me down to perch on his lap, awkward and undignified. His hand slipped into the side of my hareem pants through the slit, fondling me openly, and it was all I could do to keep my composure, trembling and silent. At least I had yet to see Lord Rocaille or any of the others, spared the embarrassment of them seeing me so debased.

"Is this the little D'Angeline whore, Mateo?" I recognized the voice of Signore Toffani in the masked figure that sat down beside him. He gave a delighted laugh. "Not so prideful now, are you, boy? Is this how your service pleases your gods?"

"It's how his service pleases me, and that's all that matters." Mateo corrected, squeezing my cock none-too-gently, and I whimpered despite myself. "He'll do anything I ask him to tonight, won't you, my little whore?"

"Of course, my lord," I managed, squirming on his lap and feeling the hardness of his cock press against my ass. "Only... I pray my lord will be merciful in allowing him to please him in private?"

Toffani laughed, and Mateo set down his wine, nipping at my ear. "What if I'm not? What if I push you down onto your knees and make you swallow my cock right here?"

I tried to calm the quickness of my breath, feeling faint. "Surely my lord would like to reserve that glory for himself alone?"

"True," Mateo agreed. "And there are other ways to show my mastery over you." Then he began to stimulate me inside the silk, slow and deliberate, thumb rubbing over the head of my cock on each stroke. He nipped at my earlobe again, breath hot against my skin as he whispered his intentions. "I think I'll make you spill in my hand, right here where everyone can watch you. And then I'll make you lick my fingers clean."

I gave a soft sob before I could stop myself. "My lord...."

"I would like to kindly remind Signore Albizzi that his contract does not permit him to such flagrant public displays of indecency." Lord Rocaille's disapproving voice came from behind Mateo's chair, and I felt my cheeks burn in a rush of shame.

"I believe I'm permitted to do as I like with the property I've paid for," Mateo sounded bemused as he replied, his fingers not stopping their attentions.

"I believe you are not, and if you insist on continuing I will insist on taking my ward home." The hardness in Lord Rocaille's voice broke me from my shame. Mateo would not back down from such a challenge, and then how would that end?

"It's alright," I gasped, turning to meet Lord Rocaille's gaze, silently pleading. "My lord, I permit it. I - " my words caught on a whimper as Mateo's fingers twisted around my cock. "I permit it."

"There, see? Your boy is a creature of pleasure. He knows what he likes. Go enjoy my party, Rocaille. You have my word I will return him to you unharmed in the morning."

Again I tried to express my pleading with my gaze, and after a moment of conflicted contemplation, Lord Rocaille gave a sharp nod. "See that you do," he said, and blessedly, left the room.

Mateo laughed, pulling my face to his with his free hand to kiss me. "See, Toffani? All it takes to master the D'Angelines is a little show of power. You should remember that, the next time you trade."

"It certainly seems that way, doesn't it?" Signore Toffani refilled his goblet and drank, not caring when white wine spilled down his chin. "What a particular creature he is, Albizzi."

I couldn't help but squirm as Mateo continued to stroke me, though his touch was no longer rough, as if by taking his side I'd reinforced his desire to display my pleasure publically. He shifted under me, arranging me so my thighs spread on either side of his own, the hard ridge of his cock nestling between my ass cheeks. "He's an exquisite little slave," Mateo agreed, nipping at the side of my neck. "And I've discovered the most lovely thing, Toffani. The more I shame him, the more desperate he is for me. Aren't you, my little whore?"

I closed my eyes, cheeks burning. "My lord, please...."

"See? Just as I said. You know, two nights ago I took him in the square outside the Signoria, like some whore that sleeps in the gutter, and he loved every moment of it. Begged for my cock like he was starving. Didn't you?"

"Yes," I sobbed, squirming, overwhelmed with shame and the stimulation of his hand on my cock, his strokes growing faster. "My lord, enough, please...."

"Don't act so bashful, little whore," he hissed in my ear. "You love it. Just like you'd love it if I did the same thing to you here. You'd beg for my cock as I fucked you, as all these people watched. You'd beg for me and you'd come so hard...."

Whether it was the stroke of his fingers or the audacity of what he suggested, it was all too much. I closed my eyes and gave into it, biting my lip on a cry as he pulled me over the edge. I heard him give a triumphant laugh as orgasm shuddered through me. "There, see? Just like I said. The little whore just needs to be put in his place, and he becomes the most obedient little cockslut you've ever seen." He pulled his hand from my pants, and true to his word, pressed his come-slick fingers into my mouth. "Now clean up the mess you've made."

I closed my eyes but obeyed, overwhelmed and burning with shame at my body's reaction to his commands. I felt like I could barely breathe, each breath catching in my chest, and it was all I could do to keep the sound from my sobs, eyes burning with unshed tears.

"Clearly worth every penny." Toffani remarked, slurring drunkenly. "I'll have to contract him myself, I think."

"Do it and I'll cut off your dick," Mateo said, standing suddenly and hauling me with him. "Enjoy the rest of your night."

The sudden display of possessiveness and jealousy broke through my shame; by the time we were in his rooms I felt more in control of myself, enough to give Ben a reassuring smile in secret as he closed the door behind him. Then I gave myself over to tears, clinging to my patron. "Forgive me, my lord. I should not have questioned you...."

Mateo gave a pleased hum. "You see now what you are, Daniel?"

"Your whore," I choked out, going to my knees and pressing my face to his cock, mouthing at him through his breeches. "Your property, my lord. To do as you say, to be as you say...."

"Your shame is exquisite," he breathed. "And you should be ashamed, being such a desperate little whore for me." He freed himself from his slacks, pushing into my mouth none-too gently, groaning as I half-gagged and swallowed around him. "Ah, that's it... take it, my little slut... that's why I make your cousin watch, you know... so that you can't hide your shame.... gods, I should have fucked you on the table after all... shown every man there who it is that owns you, shown them that I'll be the only man to fuck you...."

I thought of Piers Elton's signed contract and groaned in pleasure around him, swallowing him down until he spilled down my throat.

~~~

Mateo made the most of the longest night. It seemed like every time I managed to find sleep I'd awake to his hands on my body, and had to summon the strength to perform for him. The last time I was so exhausted that he was already inside me before I was awake enough to realize and I cried out at the shock of it, clenching down around his cock. How a man his age managed to much energy was a mystery to me - he laughed and kept pumping, whispering new debasements about my role as a hole for me to fuck before filling my well-used ass with his seed.

Finally the rays of dawn started to filter through the window, and I slipped from the bed to find my clothes. Ben helped me, looking ragged and exhausted - had he slept at all? - and only when I was dressed did I drop to my knees beside the bed, finding Mateo's hand and pressing a reverent kiss to the back.

He stirred with a sleepy noise, turning into me. "Going so soon, little whore?"

I lowered my head. "Forgive me, my lord. I must honor the terms of my contract and return to the house of my lord."

"Mmm. No matter. I will simply contract you again tonight."

I'd expected that he'd say as much, and took a deep breath, rising to my feet before giving response. "Forgive me, my lord. I am already contracted for tonight."

"What?" Fully awake, Mateo sat up. "With who? Cancel it."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that my lord. If it displeases you, you may punish me for it on the morrow." As he was still spluttering in bed, I hurried from the room, catching Ben's hand and pulling him with me. Then, in the corridor, I broke into a run.

"What do you mean, no? Get back here!" Mateo hollered from behind me. "Daniel!"

Fortunately after the Longest Night it seemed as though the Albizzi household was not in a state to respond to its master's bellows. Lord Rocaille's carriage, thankfully, already waiting for us outside, and Ben half-threw me up into it, shouting to the driver to go before falling into the seat beside me.

A giggle erupted from my lips before I could stop it, and Ben shot me an irritated glare. "Don't laugh. He was pissed."

"I'm sorry," I gasped. "I'm too delirious. Besides, what else can he do to me?"

"Plenty," Ben replied quietly, and refused to say anything else until we returned home.

Unsurprisingly, Lord Rocaille was already awake - or perhaps had not slept, there was still a full tea service in the parlor when I entered, and he upset a cup when he rose. "How could you not tell me what he was doing to you? How could you let him?"

"Exactly what I said!" Ben spat in agreement, ignoring the furious look I gave him.

Lord Rocaille continued undeterred. "Elua, Daniel! I'm not sending you to him again, I don't care what it means, I - "

"I told you I had him handled!" I felt a surge of anger. "I do, and I will continue to do so! Do you think the King of Persia treated Naamah like a peer of the realm when she offered herself for Blessed Elua? This is my judgement call, my lord!"

"And clearly the wrong one!" he hissed. "I will not have you needlessly debasing yourself - "

"Needlessly? I got you access to the Albizzi!" I shot back. "Tell me you didn't waste last night being angry at me!"

He stopped, suddenly deflating, looking away from me. "... I did not waste the night," he murmured, shoulders drooping. "And I'm thankful for it. I just... wish that you'd told me."

I swallowed hard, moving to touch his shoulder and realizing for the first time that I was nearly as tall as he was. "Forgive me," I murmured. "I did not want the weight of my decisions on you, my lord. But I have always been prepared to serve Naamah in any way necessary."

"Not for my sake," he whispered, and when he glanced up at me his eyes were bright with unshed tears.

I gave a brave smile and shook my head, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. "Not for your sake, my lord. For John's, and my own. Because this is the life the gods have called me to. Please... do not ask me to give this up when I have already done so much."

He looked up at me for a long moment, finally giving a small nod. "Alright. Go rest, then. If you need me to cancel the contract with Elton...."

I shook my head. "It's important. And quite frankly, I'm rather looking forward to it."

Lord Rocaille gave a soundless laugh, then nodded. "To bed," he said. "We'll debrief later."

"Thank you, my lord," I said. I turned to where Ben had been waiting for me, and my heart sank.

Ben was gone, and when I tried the handle to his door I found it bolted from the inside. Heart aching, I turned for my own room, unable to bear the thought of knocking and being refused. Sleep, when it came, was restless and lonely.

~~~

I slept late, and Ben later, and we didn't speak when we woke, nor on the carriage ride back to palazzo Albizzi as the evening fell. I gave the name of my patron at the gate, and was shown to one of the small guest houses on the property, where Piers Elton welcomed me with joy and open arms. If he'd seen me with Mateo the night before he certainly didn't act like it, and our lovemaking was pleasing in its familiarity. I let a little of the canon of Balm into my skills that day, and more of Heliotrope, reveling in his smile, in the adoration he favored me with as we sought pleasure together.

"I'm glad you came," I told him as we lay in bed after making love, and meant it.

Piers gave a bashful smile, glancing down. "I told you I would," he said quietly. "I wasn't sure I actually would. But..." he stopped, stroking my cheek. "I didn't expect how much I'd miss you."

"Nor I," I whispered, and watched his smile widen. "Will you stay in Firenze for long?"

"A few weeks. My wife's family has trading interests that are reason enough for me to stay." His fingers brushed my lips, gaze adoring. "Does this mean that you'll see me again?"

I opened my mouth, but before I could reply the sound of voices from outside drew my attention. Ben's voice, hard and angry, and with a rush of panic I caught up my shirt and hurried for the door.

Ben had one dagger drawn in warning, blocking the door with his body as two of the Albizzi men at arms faced off against him.

"Signore Albizzi demands to speak with Elton and his guest," one of them repeated, looking behind to me. "You'd take care not to start a fight you cannot win, whore's guard!"

"We'll go," I said quickly, as Ben cast an incredulous look over his shoulder to me. "We'll go. Won't we, Piers?"

"I'll go," Piers agreed, finishing pulling on his clothes. "My guest is just leaving, he is no-one who would concern Signore Albizzi."

"Daniel no Rocaille is very much one who concerns Signore Albizzi," the other guard said, and I felt a quiver of dread in the base of my stomach, and offered a silent prayer to Elua as I moved to recover the remainder of my clothes.

Piers stared at me frozen. "Daniel... what is he talking about?"

I pulled on my breeches, not meeting his gaze. "I... have enjoyed Signore Albizzi's patronage here in Firenze."

"Elua! Didn't I tell you - " Piers cut himself off, glancing to the guard, then strode into the room and grabbed my arm. I looked up with a start, expecting anger, feeling my stomach drop when instead I saw fear.

"Go out the window," he whispered. "Go left and you might be able to reach the gate before they know you're gone. I'll send your guard after you. I'll deal with Albizzi."

For a moment I could only stare at him, astonished. Then I shook my head, giving a soft smile and leaning in to press a kiss to his mouth. "I'm sorry to get you caught up in this," I whispered, then pulled from his grasp and turned for the door.

We were taken into the main household, up to a small parlor that proved to be a private dining room, where Mateo degli Albizzi was waiting for us. Immediately my eyes went to a large statue that stood to the side of the room, its marble polished to a high shine. It depicted the Hellenic god Dionysus, and stood as tall as a man, his hands outstretched and one leg forward, as if in pursuit of a lover. His cock, far longer and thicker than a man's, curved thick and erect from between his thighs.

I wondered how long he'd known I was here, and how he'd planned for this.

"Welcome, Elton." Mateo smiled as the doors were closed behind us. "I heard you had a guest and wanted to make sure to provide the proper hospitality. Come sit, have a bite with me. Daniel, take off your clothes."

Piers looked from Mateo back to me, eyes wide and helpless, and I knew that whatever Mateo intended, I'd find no help from him. I bowed low. "Forgive me, my lord. My contract today is with my Lord Elton, and it restricts me only to his will."

"Then you will do what he asks?" Mateo's eyes glittered darkly, and I swallowed hard.

"Within the bounds and restrictions of my contract, yes. It does not include intimacy with another, my lord."

"Oh of course, I would never ask Elton to do something so uncouth. Have a seat, Elton, and we'll have a bite. Ask Daniel to take his clothes off and go stand next to my new statue, so we have something beautiful to look at while we eat."

Piers cast me an apologetic look, sinking down into the chair next to Mateo. "If you wouldn't mind, Daniel. It would... please me."

"... of course, my lord." removing my clothing made me feel vulnerable, and I was certain that a touch of humiliation was the least of what Mateo had planned. I took as much time as I dared, setting my clothes aside in a neat pile, the moving to stand next to the the statue of Dionysus, taking the standing display form of a Valerian adept.

Mateo had poured them both a glass of wine, and Piers had already gulped down most of his. "Extraordinary plaything you've found, Elton," Mateo murmured, looking over me. "I must commend and thank you for recommending my patronship to him. A whore of all thirteen houses of the D'Angeline Goddess of Sluts. Tell me, has he pleased you with the skills of all thirteen houses?"

"There are a few I prefer over the others," Elton said carefully, and Mateo's smile grew.

"I've recently learned that one of those houses teaches its adepts to whip their patrons for pleasure. Is that what you ask for, Elton?"

"My lord, it is not!" he blustered, turning red with indignance, but I felt my head grow light. If Mateo had been learning of the night court....

"Of course not," Mateo agreed. "It would be a waste to use him as such when he is so beautiful when he is... how do you say it in D'Angeline, _soumis_?" He rose from the table to approach me, taking my face in his hands. "How do you like my new art, Daniel?"

"It - it is very beautiful, my lord," I managed, and he smiled.

"Dionysus pursuing the nymph," he said, eyes moving over it with satisfaction. "The nymph is not yet completed. But I don't think that matters for today. Elton!"

Piers jumped. "My lord?"

"Tell your guest that you wish for him to be the nymph for my Dionysus today. I want to mount him on the statue while we eat. That's not against the terms of your contract, is it?"

My mouth went dry. Near the door, I saw Ben's hand move to one dagger. "My lord..."

"Surely you wouldn't refuse a patron, now, would you Daniel? I'd certainly have no need of a whore who broke his contract. Or a patron who couldn't control him."

A the table, I watched Piers go white. He finished his drink and take a deep breath. "My lord's proposal is wonderful. Daniel, I'd like very much for you to allow my Lord Albizzi to put you on display as his nymph during our dinner."

I could feel my thighs tremble, looking down at the curved marble phallus of the statue. Up close, I could see that it was slicked with a thick oil. "My lord," I whispered, "It's too big. I can't...."

"It's no bigger than the cock I watched you fuck yourself on the night of midwinter. I remember that well. But we can measure, if you don't remember," he said, turning his gaze pointedly towards where Ben stood at the door, and suddenly I felt sick to my stomach.

He knew. He'd always known.

I didn't resist as he caught up a length of rope and begun to bind my wrists together. My _signale_ sat thick on my tongue, but I couldn't bring myself to utter it. I'd underestimated him. And now I had to let him win.

"I haven't told you yet how I first found him," Mateo said as he finished binding my wrists, casting a glance back at Piers. "We have a lovely tradition here in Firenze that gives all citizens the freedom to pursue whatever pleasure they wish during midwinter celebrations, as long as they are masked. I found your dirty little whore waiting for me, fucking himself on the largest cock I'd ever seen with a desperation I'd never seen before in a man. He'd taken off his mask so that I would know him." He caught my face in his hand and leaned close, voice low and thick with desire. "That's what truly drew me to you, little whore. Knowing that for all the airs you gave yourself, you were no better than a two bit prostitute desperate for cock. I knew you'd do anything I asked of you, including this. Won't you?"

I swallowed hard, closing my eyes as the room spun around me. "Yes, my lord."

Mateo gave a pleased hum, and the next thing I knew the rope that bound my wrists was flung over the beam of the ceiling above us, and he was pulling me up off the ground, to push me back onto the thick head of the statue's cock. The smooth polished stone pushed at my ass, stretching me open unrelentingly.

It was hard to remember my training in that moment, strung up and trembling. I tensed instinctively and gave a yelp of pain as the weight of my body pulled me down onto the unforgiving stone. Piers rose from the table. "My lord - "

"He's alright," Mateo said, still holding tight to the rope, my toes barely touching the ground. He pressed closer to me, stroking his free hand up to massage my ass gently, fingertips rubbing along the rim of my stretched-tight hole. "Aren't you, little whore? I've seen you take more than this. I know you can handle this."

I pressed my lips tightly together to keep from sobbing and fought to relax. It wasn't the same as a man's cock, not at all. But the rub of his hand did help me remember my disciplines, and I fought to control my breath, to relax around the intrusion and let myself settle down onto it until I could securely rest my weight on my tiptoes on the ground.

"There's a good boy. You can handle yourself now, can't you? When you're ready, you'll find that when you lower yourself completely you can seat yourself quite comfortably on his thigh, little whore. Here, I'll help you feel more secure." Letting the rope go slack, he pushed my arms back behind my head, looping them over the head of the statue. It did help me feel far more secure, and I relaxed a little more, trembling as I sank down deeper on to the statue.

"Thank you, my lord," I whispered, and Mateo smiled, leaning in to press a long, slow kiss to my mouth.

"You're just as beautiful as I imagined you'd be," he purred, and even feeling completely off my game, I could tell that his pleasure was genuine. He stroked a hand down my body to curl around my cock, stroking me slowly, and I closed my eyes with a whimper, shuddering at the intensity of the added stimulation.

"The conquest of Dionysus," Mateo murmured as he continued to stroke me. "Did you study Hellenic lore, Elton?"

"I'm... afraid I did not, my lord."

"Shame. It's ripe with such lovely tales. There's another of a boy who was so lovely in his youth that the king of the gods came to him in the form of an eagle, just to claim his innocence. I'm quite envious you were able to take that gift from our pretty little whore. I imagine it was quite wasted on you."

"Quite," Piers agreed weakly.

"Perhaps we shall play at that the next time I have you, Daniel," Mateo murmured, pushing me back a little more onto the statue. It grew thicker as I slid down towards the base, and I cried out despite myself, already feeling stretched painfully tight around it.

"My lord - please - have mercy - "

"Don't pretend like you don't like it," Mateo replied, fingers tightening around me - shamefully, under the intensity of stimulation he'd managed to bring me to full hardness. "You look so good like this, your pretty little ass stretched so tight around this huge cock..." He stepped back, leaving me breathless and trembling and supported only by the statue. "Make good use of my present, little whore."

At the table, Piers poured himself a second glass of wine - or was it a third? "My lord is too generous."

"I am, aren't I?" Mateo settled back into his chair, eyes running appreciatively down my body before turning his attention away completely. "Now, tell me how your wife's interests fare in Lucca."

I wasn't sure if his lack of attention made things better or worse - leaving me there like it didn't matter what I did. I glanced over to the door to find Ben watching me, anguished, fingers clenched white around the handles of his daggers. But when he saw me look he managed a small, trembling smile, and what I'd told him became true: I did feel stronger. I closed my eyes, shutting out the world, and finally was able to let myself relax into my bondage, balancing my weight between my toes and my grasp on the statue behind me. It became easier to take the impossible hardness of the phallus inside me, the cold stone warming with my body heat. Slowly I was able to press back more against the statue, legs on either side of its muscular thigh. Gradually the pain of the intrusion lessened to mere discomfort, and I was able to let myself slide down until I was fully seated, straddling Dionysus' outstretched thigh and letting it take my weight.

"You can't stop watching him, can you?" Mateo's voice turned from his conversation as quickly as it had begun, his attention turning back to me. "Mmm, there we are. Did you imagine your little whore could be so desperate for cock that he'd fuck himself on a piece of statuary to please me?"

Piers voice was low, tinged with displeasure. "No. Only a man so great as my lord Albizzi could concoct such a pleasure."

Mateo hummed agreement, leaning back in his chair, and I watched his hand move up Piers' thigh, beginning to cup and fondle his groin. "Don't be shy, my little cock slut. Fuck yourself on that statue like I know you want to."

It wasn't easy, with the stone so unforgiving, though the curve of it helped. I tightened my arms around his head behind me, lifting slowly off the balls of my feet, a helpless whimper escaping my throat at the shift of it inside me. I could feel my erection flag, but the last thing I wanted was for him to touch me again, so I tried to shift to give myself more pleasure, finally managing to find how to angle to stimulate myself as I rocked slowly onto it.

"Beautiful," Mateo murmured, still palming Piers' crotch. "It makes me think of that night you begged for my favor in Lucca, Elton. Do you remember that?"

"... fondly," Piers managed to reply, not trying to hide that it was clearly anything but.

"Good," Mateo purred. Then he turned his chair towards Piers, starting to undo his own breeches. "I think we should renew that agreement, don't you?"

I watched Piers pale, than flush pink. "I remember it well, my lord. Perhaps instead I should leave you with my guest, and you can continue to do as you like with him?"

"I've already done what I wanted with him. Now I'm going to do what I want with you." He looked over to me. "The dirty little whore can fuck himself without my direction, can't you, Daniel?"

"Of course, my lord," I managed to gasp, and he smiled.

"Good. Once you've completed your show for me, I'll take you down. But you aren't to come before I do, understand?"

"Yes, my lord."

Even strung up like I was, part of me felt sorry for Piers - my uncomplicated scion of Camael was clearly not meant for serving in the bedroom, eyes watering as he choked around Mateo's cock. Part of me was glad to have Mateo's attention taken off of me... left to my own devices, it was easier to believe that I was doing this by choice, putting on a show for a valued patron or someone I loved. Finally accustomed to my throne, I found it easier to fuck myself, angling to stimulate my sweet spot and letting myself whimper and sob with the intensity of it all.

At some point Mateo pushed Piers down across the table and took him from behind, hands clenched in his hair to keep his gaze on me. "Look at your precious whore, Elton," he gasped, jarring his body as he bucked deep into him. "Look how he obeys my every whim, just like you do. Just like you've - always - done - !" Crying out roughly, he bucked into him as he came, and I closed my eyes and employed every technique to encourage my passion, sobbing with relief when I finally climbed the peak of climax.

"I'm glad we could reach this understanding," Mateo said as he pulled away from Piers, patting his ass. "Go back to your rooms with your whore. I don't want to see you again today." He looked to me. "I expect you to keep our contract tomorrow night, or you will no longer be in my favor." Then he left.

Stiffly Piers rose from the table, pulling his clothes back into place. "Why the hell did you get involved with him?" He hissed at me, face flushed with anger and shame. "I specifically told you to stay away from the Albizzi! Did you think I didn't have a reason for that?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but not knowing how to respond and too exhausted to figure it out, I simply gave into tears. My sobs wracked my body, and I struggled to stay on my tiptoes, the statue an agony where it impaled me.

"Oh Elua, Daniel!" Piers as at my side even before Ben could be, catching me up in his arms. He lifted me carefully, helping me up off the statue, then carefully setting me down in a chair and dropping to his knees in front of me, pulling at the knots that bound me. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, darling, I didn't mean it. I was just - oh, Elua, that thing is huge. How could you bear it? Did he tear you? I'll kill him - "

"No," I managed to gasp, and pulled him close. My whole body trembled in exhaustion, but I would have known if I needed a doctor. "No, no more than he hurt you. Forgive me, my lord!"

"Shh, shh... It's okay. It's okay, you couldn't have known." Piers kissed my cheeks, stroking fingers through my hair. Then he looked back to Ben. "Help me with his clothes, and I'll see you on your way."

It was hard to think past the immediate task of dressing, and I was grateful for Ben's gentle care. Standing was even harder, my thighs trembling from exhaustion, my body raw and aching from what I'd put it through. Still, even in such a state I could tell that Piers was fraught with guilt, and when we finally went to leave the room I pulled him closer, leaning heavily on him. "My lord..."

"I'm so sorry," Piers said again, holding me tight, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "If there's ever anything I can do, Daniel, any way to repay you...."

I took a deep breath and turned my face up to nuzzle his neck. "Please... Piers, don't send me away right now. I... I need to stay with you. I need to be with you. I think we both need the healing of Naamah's compassion, don't we?"

Piers' arm tightened around my waist, and he gave an incredulous laugh. "Stay? Darling, neither of us are in any state to worship Naamah. I can't do that to you right now."

I shook my head, cupping his cheek gently. "Is our intimacy truly only about sex, my lord?"

For a long moment he looked at me. Then his gaze softened, adoration winning out over fatigue. "No. No, it's not."

Back in his bed with Ben waiting outside, I was glad that I'd stayed, in part to assuage my own guilt for having used him so. It was a little strange, to lay with him fully clothed, but easy to relax, dozing in his arms as we curled together.

"I shouldn't have come," he said finally, nuzzling my hair. "I'm sorry. I... was frightened of what would happen to you if you caught his attention. But I guess I only made it worse."

I shook my head, leaning up to kiss him gently. "You couldn't have known, my lord."

Piers frowned, glancing away. "I knew what he was capable of. What he said tonight was true. And that wasn't the only time I let him have me."

"Why?" I cupped his face in both hands with a mournful moan, stroking his hair. "My lord, you are not a servant of Naamah. Why would you let a man like that use you so carelessly? What does he have on you, to take that choice from you?"

Piers eyes closed, mouth twisting, and for a long moment he was silent. "You need to know what kind of man he is," he whispered finally. "This is the only reason why I tell you, and you must never tell anyone. If you do - if he finds out... he'll kill you without a moment of consideration."

"Tell me what?" I whispered, and Piers swallowed hard, drawing a slow, trembling breath.

"Mateo degli Albizzi has the proof that would see me hang for treason against the throne of Terre D'Ange," he murmured finally, helplessly. "It's held in trust with a third party in Lucca, who will release it if anything ever happens to him. But he was the one who orchestrated the treason. I swear to you that I didn't know what he intended, and I can't prove his hand. But it happened. And he's forced me to be his man ever since."

I stroked his cheek gently at the admission, employing every discipline I knew to calm and reassure him. "I believe you. I can imagine what it must have done to you, to hold onto such a secret for all these years under such risk to yourself...."

"I had no choice," he whispered, shaking his head. "Do you hate me for it? Elua, Daniel, if I'd known he meant her death...."

I soothed him with soft murmurs, stroking his hair, pressing kisses to his face and feeling him relax in my arms. Then I pulled back to look at him. It was time to take a chance, and pray I wouldn't fail. "My lord... there are people in the world who could give you protection from such a man. If you were willing to bear testimony against him, I know that our king would keep you safe."

Panic rose in Piers eyes. "Albizzi has men everywhere. If I tried to get word to the king - I can't take that chance."

"Lord Rocaille, then. The king's uncle. I swear on my life, Piers, he can be trusted. Just come home with me...."

Piers shook his head again, pulling away from me and sitting up, regretful. "He'd know. I think you need to go now, Daniel. And for both our sakes... please, say nothing. Leave the city, if you can. Go back to Terre d'Ange. Don't think to cross the Albizzi."

I nodded, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, and left.

~~~


	12. Chapter 12

Of course I told Lord Rocaille everything.

I left out the details of what Mateo had done to me, of course, but relayed the control he'd had over Piers, and Piers final admission to me. "I tried to convince him to come with me, but..." I stopped shaking my head. "He's terrified of Albizzi. He's convinced he'll know that he's told me."

"It seems he has good reason to be. You should follow his lead." Lord Rocaille drummed his fingers on the tabletop, considering everything silently for a moment before speaking. "Pack your things. We're leaving for Lucca. Whatever it was that was Michele Cicconi was onto, whatever got him killed it must be related to this. If he found it, so can we."

"Go? To Lucca? My lord, that's the last thing we can do! We have no leads - Sameen de Medici has gone to ground, if we start asking around Albizzi will know immediately! And Piers - "

Lord Rocaille shook his head. "If Elton refuses our help, there's little we can do for him." 

"What about us, then? If they had Signore Cicconi killed, what's to stop them from doing the same to us? They've already tried to kill his wife!"

"He has a point, Harold," Reese said gently. "We should tread carefully. Perhaps a messenger would be more subtle. Or, as much as I hate to say it... Root."

Lord Rocaille sighed as he looked up at him, then gave a small nod. "You're right. Daniel... I'll need to read her into this."

"If you're certain that she can be trusted, then I accept my lord's judgement. But... we must stay here, my lord. And I must keep Signore Albizzi's contract tomorrow night."

" _What?_ " I looked to Ben, who looked like he'd been slapped in the face. "You can't be serious!"

I swallowed hard, heart aching. "Ben... I have to."

Ben pushed his chair back from the table. "No. No, you're not. And I'm sure as hell not going with you."

"Ben - "

"No!" He shouted again, and whirled from the room, slamming the door to the small bedroom he was sleeping in hard enough that it shook the painting on the wall outside of it.

For a moment I stood frozen, not knowing whether to scream or cry, tears burning my eyes. Just when I thought I could take it no longer, I felt a soft touch on my shoulder and turned to see Laurent.

He drew a soft, slow breath. "I... I can go talk to him, if you want."

The thought of not being able to console Ben was heartbreaking. But for the moment, I couldn't. And leaving him alone was far worse.

"Please," I whispered, watching Lar as he left.

"I'll go with you tonight if he can't," Reese said quietly, his hand warm on the small of my back. "So don't worry about it, alright? Go catch some rest."

~~~

Rest, again, did not come easy, even when Lord Rocaille brought me some willow bark tea to help ease the aches of my body. But it was needed, and when I finally awoke the next morning I felt, if not ready to face Albizzi, at least like it wouldn't break me.

I stole out to the parlour and was surprised to see both Reese and Ben on the terrace, moving through their disciplines in the early morning air. I'd always thought Reese's practice beautiful, but I'd never before been awake to see Ben... together, they were breathtaking. Despite the fact that the Cassiline fighting style was intended for a solo defendant facing multiple attackers, they still clearly had enough awareness of the other to move perfectly in sync through their forms, fluid and strong, through I didn't miss that Ben's lunges went a little deeper, his body stronger, supple with youth. Faster and faster they moved, still keeping pace with each other, steel flashing in circles in the early morning sun, and when they finally finished they bowed low to each other. Reese said something, inaudible through the window, and the smile that lit Ben's face made it seem like the sun had just come out.

My heart felt tight in my chest.

Ben's smile faded when he came inside and saw me, which made my heart ache even more. But he crossed the room to sink down to his knees in front of me, taking my hand in both of his, pressing a kiss to the back before pressing his cheek to it. "Forgive me, cousin," he said, soft and sorrowful, and I ran my fingers over his hair, shaking my head.

"It is I who must beg your forgiveness. I've asked too much from you."

"Never." Ben's voice shook as he spoke. "I'm here for you. I know it. Cassiel chose me to stand by your side, and I will. No matter what that takes. I swear it."

I choked back a sob and dropped to my knees with him, clinging to him as I kissed his face, his eyes, his lips. "I love you," I whispered, holding him tight and hoping that my love would be enough to sustain him through whatever was to come.

~~~

Mateo degli Albizzi met me in the main entry of the Palazzo. Before I could speak he was striding forward, drawing a hand back to strike me across the face so hard it sent me sprawling. I heard the sound of steel being drawn - too much steel, far too much with Mateo's men in the room - and I held a hand up blindly towards where Ben stood behind me. "Stop! Stop. Please." Trying to catch my breath, I crawled back to Mateo, bending further to press my lips to his shoes. "Forgive me, my lord. Please forgive me. I will submit to whatever punishment you deem appropriate. I swear it."

"Stand down," I heard him say. Then he bent to grab me by the back of my doublet, hauling me up to my knees to look at him. One hand cupped my cheek where he'd struck me, which stung under his touch. "These things you make me do to you," he murmured, frowning.

"Forgive me, my lord. Please, let me - let me earn my forgiveness."

His eyes narrowed, contemplating, then he gave a sharp nod. "Come to my chambers."

Ben followed, silent and angry, but when we reached the doors to his rooms, Mateo turned, stopping him with an upraised hand. "I don't need you today. You may stand guard at the door."

I watched Ben's hackles raise, though he kept his emotion carefully in check. "My lord is reminded that he has signed a legally binding contract making you responsible for his well-being. If you mark or maim him - "

"I will adhere to the contract and respect his _signale_ ," Mateo said simply, then shut the door in his face. "Daniel. Strip."

I removed my clothes hurriedly, with trembling fingers, dropping to kneel on the fine Akkadian carpet and prostrating myself with arms outstretched. "Forgive me, my lord."

"Forgive you? You insult me by refusing my suit, by whoring yourself out to another man under my own roof!"

"I'm sorry," I gasped. "I am yours, my lord. All of me. Forgive me!"

Mateo's hands tangled in my hair, hauling me up and pulling my head back to look at him. "Stop sniveling and tell me why!"

I'd expected to throw myself on his mercy, to beg and plead and cry. But under the glare of his rage I saw something, and reacted on instinct before I could question myself. "I wanted to taste my lord's jealousy again!"

Mateo froze with his hand drawn back as if to strike me again, eyes blazing. "... explain."

I swallowed hard, not trying to fight against the pull of his hand in my hair. "My lord, it is your power that attracts me, it is your power that makes me helpless to your desire. I saw the way you looked when Signore Toffani spoke of buying my contract. I felt the way you mastered me that night. I wanted to taste that again. I wanted to see what a true man of power would do when challenged, I... I wanted you to exert your mastery over me." I wet my lips, letting my voice lower. "You have done so beyond my wildest expectations, my lord. The way you punished Elton for having me...."

I'd barely finished speaking before Mateo had his cock out and was ramming it down my throat. I choked around him at his force and urgency, but felt a thrill of accomplishment, and let myself gag and cry as he wanted as he fucked my mouth, pulling back to spill on my face in nearly no-time at all. Then he pushed me away roughly, sending me sprawling on the carpet. I pushed myself up, wiping his seed and my own tears from my face with trembling fingers.

"My little whore is an angel and a devil at once," he growled, shedding his clothes. "I will master you. And I will punish you for your impudence."

I moved to bow low again. "I will take the statue again, if my lord wills it."

"I'm not rewarding you with something you enjoy so much," he spat, thankfully rising to my manipulation. "I have something else planned for you. I've learned more about your Valerian house, little whore. Get up. Bend over the side of my bed and brace your hands on the mattress."

Heart beating, I did so, adrenaline spiking through my veins. Valerian house could mean anything - even pain I knew I could not bear - but I was painfully aware that asking for clarification might only give him more ideas. As I took the position he indicated, I saw a paddle laid out on the mattress of hard, flexible leather, a single thin hole in the middle. A shivering moan escaped my lips.

"Now you see what happens to little whores who think to test their masters," Mateo growled, picking up the paddle, and before I could think he'd delivered two hard strokes, one to each ass cheek. The leather cracked painfully across my skin, making me cry out, but what was worse was the aftermath, the red-hot pain of the hole in the paddle biting into my skin.

"You are going to take your punishment," Mateo told me. "You can cry and beg for me to stop all you like, but if you wish to stay in my favor, you will not give your _signale_. You will take whatever I choose to give you tonight. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord," I whispered, and my punishment began in earnest.

I wish I could say that I bore it with dignity, but I was never made for that. I was only glad that Ben was not here to see me, sobbing helplessly under the blows he rained on my ass and thighs, each more torture than the last. I forgot everything I said to him, everything I begged for and promised him if he'd show me mercy, only that nothing made him relent. When he finally threw aside the paddle and took me the agony was just as great. I was still sore from his punishments the day before, and the fabric of his breeches rubbed raw against my abused skin as he plowed into me with all the anger of a lover scorned. I wanted to encourage him, to build his passion with words as I so often did, but I couldn't catch my breath to speak past my tears, to do anything more than beg. After what seemed like an eternity he came with a roar, grinding against my tender ass as he spilled inside me, then finally pulling away.

I collapsed against the side of the bed, legs too weak to hold my weight, burying my face in the bedding and gasping for breath in broken sobs. The lack of his presence was somehow worse than before, but he returned after a moment to help me up and urge me to stretch out on the bed, making soft, soothing noises. He stroked something over the heated skin of my ass, gentle and tender, and after a few moments I felt the skin begin to cool and numb.

"Shhh... there we are, sweetheart... you did so well for me, so good, Daniel... come sit up, here is some wine, here, drink...."

It was still uncomfortable to put my weight on my ass, but the numbing sensation of the salve calmed my nerves until I could sip at the large goblet of wine he offered me. I wanted to respond to his praise, but I was too exhausted, and when he moved down my body to suck at my cock I gave in without complaint. I'd heard the adepts of Valerian describe this exhaustion, how the world became fuzzy and muted after such intensity, and it was easy to let myself go to it, spilling the wine onto the pillow but managing to finish much of it. It was a relief to just rest a hand in his hair, letting my mind focus only on the pleasure, and not who was administering it.

"My good boy," he whispered, kissing my thighs and stomach after I'd come, urging me to stretch out on the bed. I let him move me, my limbs strangely heavy and unresponsive. "There you are. Do you feel good, my sweet? Did you finish all of your wine? Good. Just relax and take a nap now, give yourself over to it. You've done so well, my darling, just let the herbs take hold. You rest, and I'll use you how I like. You don't need to do anything. You've earned it."

Somewhere in the corner of my mind I felt a spark of panic. The wine, it must have been the wine. But I couldn't fight it, and as he arranged me on my stomach and started to use me again I was secretly glad to give myself over to that oblivion.

~~~

 

I awoke to low voices and pain at the same time, and only the disciplines that had been ingrained in me for so many years kept me still and silent.

I recognized Mateo's voice first. "Did Elton finally give you anything?"

"Yes, my lord. He's riding through Lucca, as we suspected. I have the evidence ready. I'll ready our assets to ride."

"I'll come speak to them myself. They must be certain to set it up so that Medici takes the fall."

"And you're certain this will work?"

"Of course. Who will lead the family with Leonardo imprisoned? Giovanni is too old and Sameen... if she's still alive, she's no threat. And the King of Terre D'Ange will be in our debt." The mattress shifted as he climbed out. "Take Elton out. He's no use to me now."

"And the whore?"

A pause. "Leave him. He'll be drugged for a few hours yet, and I'll fancy a victory fuck when I return. I'll come down the back, with you, and his guard will be none the wiser."

Panic spiked through my veins at his words, enough to clear some of the fog that had settled over my mind. I waited until it was silent, then struggled to move, still finding my limbs heavy and unresponsive. My voice, when I tried to call for Ben, was little better, but still I struggled to get up. I had to move, I had to warn Lord Rocaille, I had to - "

Perched on the edge of the bed, a spell of dizziness overcame me, and I flailed for support. I tried to grab onto the bed curtains, knocking the wine glass off the bed table and onto the floor with a crash before tumbling out myself, crying out as I hit the floor.

The door crashed open immediately and Ben was at my side, pulling me up into his arms. "Ben," I tried to gasp, my tongue thick in my mouth. "Ben... drugs... Piers...."

"Elua, what happened? Here - drink some water - it's mine, don't worry. Gods, I'm going to kill him - "

I gulped down the water, which somehow managed to clear my head a little more. "Ben. He knows. He knows we sent someone to Lucca. How does he...." but no, that was wrong. My mind replayed what I'd heard, and a fresh shock of panic cleared my head more. "Piers! Ben - my clothes - we have to - have to help him - "

"Here, I'll help you..." Ben helped me struggle into the garments, pulling my boots onto my feet, then starting out of the room, supporting most of my weight with an arm around my waist. "What are you talking about? I have to get you out of here. Elton can fend for himself."

I shook my head, trying to bring my wits back to myself and stay on my feet at the same time as Ben dragged me through the corridors, past shocked household staff. I stumbled painfully down the last few steps of the grand staircase and almost brought Ben down with me. "No. We have to go - his rooms - "

"We're going home," Ben said sharply, pulling me out the doors and into the courtyard.

The cold of winter was a welcome slap to the face, and I gasped, my head clearing. Suddenly there was someone else beside us, and I focused in confusion on the colours of Albizzi's livery before turning my gaze up higher, taking in familiar features. Laurent.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ben hissed.

"Helping you! Listen, there's a roan horse outside, tied across the street. Get him back to de Morhban's, I'll - "

"No!" I broke away from them both, rushing across the courtyard as fast as I could towards the guest houses where I'd last seen my patron. I pushed open his door, and two men at arms whirled, drawing their swords without hesitation.

I didn't see how they fell to Ben's blades. I could only see the still form of the bound man that slumped in the chair in front of them, blood seeping from the dagger that protruded from between his ribs.

I dropped to my knees with a sob, reaching up to cup his face. "Piers. Piers, don't go - Lar, get help, please - call for a surgeon!

"Too late." My patron's words were barely a whisper, and he struggled to open his eyes. His face was swollen and bruised - clearly they'd beat some kind of confession out of him - but still he smiled to see me. "Little dove. Don't worry. I didn't give you up. I could never..."

"Don't speak like that," I urged, and a spasm shook his body, coughing blood from his lips as he struggled to speak.

"Listen. My trunk. The hidden bottom. A letter. My confession." A choked, helpless laugh. "Forgive me."

"I do," I promised, cupping his face gently in both hands, feeling my eyes burn with tears as I kissed his forehead. "I do. Please, Piers, don't leave me...."

"You made me so happy...." he murmured, then moaned as another shudder wracked his body. I held him tightly, not caring that his blood soaked my shirt.

"Don't speak," I begged. "I'll get help, I'll - "

Piers managed a shake of the head. "Leave me. The king rides in secret, through Lucca. And I told them. Forgive.. forgive me...."

"I do," I whispered, stroking his cheek. "Through the love of Blessed Elua, who awaits you in the great Terre D'Ange beyond, you are absolved, my love...."

For a moment it was as though he smiled, and I thought that everything would be alright. Then his body went limp, and I knew, and drew back from him, blinded by my tears.

"Daniel. We have to go." Ben's hand was warm on my shoulder, pulling me back to my feet. Laurent had worked the false bottom from Piers trunk from where it had been thrown across the room, and he held out a folded parchment to me, which I tucked inside my shirt, next to my heart.

"We have to go," Ben said again urgently. "When Albizzi finds us gone and these guards down, there'll be hell to pay."

I struggled to think, my heart pounding. John was riding from Lucca. In secret. How many men could he have with him? And how many ways were there for someone to fall on the road? I drew myself up as tall as I could and looked my cousin in the eye.

"No. You need to go. Take the horse, go home. Take Reese and as many men at arms as Lady de Morhban can spare, and take the road to Lucca until you find John."

Ben's eyes widened. "I can't leave you here - leave both of you here!"

"I'll get him to the grand temple," Laurent said, voice low. "We'll go now, we'll be safe. Our King is in danger, Cassiline! If you would protect us, if you care for either of us, go!"

Ben went white. "Swear to me you'll both - "

"I swear it! Now go!"

Ben gave a sharp nod, and was gone.

I tried to take a step after him and wavered, suddenly dizzy again with another wave of the drugs. I was grateful when Laurent caught me with an arm around my waist. He wrapped something over my head and around my upper body. A blanket? "Here. Hold onto this, grandmother. Let's get you out of here."

That I could do. I was vaguely aware of him taking me out of a back gate, grateful that I couldn't hear any noise of alarm from the household. Then I just concentrated on putting one foot in front of another. "Lar... the temple...."

"Don't worry, I know the way." Sure enough, I found myself soon pulled across a cobbled courtyard, Laurent's voice ringing out loud and clear in his accented Caerdicci. "With pure hearts and contrite spirits, we petition the great god Shemesh for sanctuary!"

Where he'd learned of that, I wasn't coherent enough to ask. In moments it seemed as though I was surrounded by priests, hearing Laurent explain that I'd been drugged, that it wasn't my blood that stained my shirt. Hands reached for my shirt buttons, and in panic I yanked away, pressing the blood-stained fabric to my chest and feeling the reassuring crunch of the parchment underneath. "Lar - Piers - "

"Could you raise the guard? There's been a D'Angeline noble murdered in the house of the Albizzi."

 _Murdered._ The word was so terrible, so final, and I gave way to tears, clinging to Laurent and letting him soothe me with gentle words. Finally he urged me down onto a cot in a darkened room.

"Sleep," he murmured. "I'll look after you, I promise. I'll be right here."

"Thank you," I managed, and did.

~~~


	13. Chapter 13

I woke to a knock, and for a moment couldn't place where I was, disoriented in the dim light of morning that peaked in through high windows. It seemed to be some kind of a small dormitory, a narrow cot against each wall. Then the knock came again, and I turned to find Laurent start from sleep where he'd curled with his back to the door.

"If you want breakfast, let me in."

The woman's voice was familiar - her gruffness moreso. I felt a spark of excitement. "It's alright," I said to Laurent, who pulled himself up off the floor stiffly to open the door.

Holding a tray of food and dressed in the unadorned goldenrod robes of a temple priestess was Sameen de Medici. I managed to get off the cot, bowing low. "My lady. I'm thankful to see you, we feared you had...."

"That I'd what? Died? Sam knew where to find me." She thrust the tray at me. "Come speak with me when you've finished," she said, and left.

The fare was simple - cheese and bread with oil, green olives, a pale wine. After whatever Albizzi had given me, I was glad of it. I sat cross-legged on the cot, leaving the room's single chair for Laurent, who still moved a little stiffly as he lowered himself into it. "You didn't have to sleep on the floor."

"I didn't intend to," he replied with a wry smile. "But I promised your cousin I'd watch over you."

"You promised you'd keep both of us safe," I corrected him. "And here we are. Let me give you a massage later.

"I won't say no to that."

I sipped a little of the wine, but set it aside, stomach rejecting the taste even though I knew the grapes were young and would not leave me much addled. I ate an olive instead. "How were you there yesterday? And in Albizzi's livery?"

Laurent glanced to where the discarded tunic was draped across the other cot. "I might have lifted it from the laundry during our short time there, when I needed to make a hasty escape from a illicit dalliance." His eyes sparkled as he grinned at me, wide and lopsided. "I wasn't particularly sure why I packed it when we left, only that the Lady de Morhban was very impressed. She's been teaching me a few things these past few days about moving unseen. It's not as easy as I presumed."

"I can't imagine it would be for someone like you," I pointed out, eyes going to his shock of red hair, then admiring the dancer's form I'd recognize anywhere.

"You speak as though you aren't a most striking thing yourself," he pointed out with a smirk. "When I saw you and Ben that first night I knew you immediately - " he stopped.

I felt a rush of self-consciousness, uncommon and unwelcome. I looked away from him. "... did you ask him? About his vows?"

Out of the corner of my eye, Lar nodded, leaning back in his chair. " _The sweetness of desire and the purity of love will always be inexplicably linked, the one with the other,_ " he recited, much as I'd heard Ben explain it to me the first day. "I'm not sure I would have ever believed it, not from anyone else, it's so strange to think of. But I believe him, and perhaps it helps me understand the canon of Heliotrope a little better." He was smiling when I glanced back to him. "He said... he said he felt that the Gods had a deeper mission for him, that he'd always known they'd draw him back to you."

There was a wistfulness in his expression, and I remembered what he'd told me of his feelings. "Ben and I grew up as brothers," I said softly, "We were meant to enter Her service as a matched pair, and every choice we made as children was for that end. But I... I was always too eager to learn things, perhaps even before I should. So we... practiced, somewhat, before our dedication. Not enough to dishonor our house, of course, but... it was enough to bind our hearts. I didn't realize then the consequences of loving him as I did."

"Are you going to tell John?"

I stared down at my food, stomach twisting into a knot. "I'll have to," I said finally. "I just can't help but worry that... I've always been certain that John would let me have anyone I wanted, as long as I returned to him. But I'm not sure that includes the one person I shouldn't want."

"He loves you," Lar said softly, with the same wistfulness in his eyes. "I think you'll find that love more powerful than you think, Daniel."

"I hope so," I whispered, and had to force myself to finish my meal.

A new shirt had been left for me of plain linen, but I changed into it gladly, tucking Piers precious letter inside against my heart again. Then I went to find Sameen de Medici, moving quietly through the near-empty halls of the Temple of Shemesh.

In the main cathedral, a group of priests performed the morning devotions, a sextet of voices in a beautiful, harmonious chant that hummed across the space. There was no great effigies of Shemesh like the temples in Khebbel-im-Akkad, but from my time here I'd gathered that the worship had become quite separate in the hundreds of years since Firenze was founded by those first Akkadian travellers. Instead, the main altar held an eight-pointed star - four rays wavy, four straight and triangular. It was here that I found Sameen de Medici, kneeling with her head bowed in prayer.

For a long moment I held back, gazing up at the golden star. I hadn't participated in the temple rites to Naamah since we'd left Terre D'Ange, and suddenly I longed to do so very much, longed for home in an aching, terrible way.

Instead I pulled a handful of gold coin from my purse, a fraction of Mateo Albizzi's first payments, which Lord Rocaille wouldn't accept and I didn't want. I laid them in the offering plate, then sank to my knees, bowing as Sameen did until my forehead pressed to the coloured marble.

"My lord Shemesh," I whispered, "I am not of your people, and my oaths are to other gods. But I give thanks for your protection, and beg that the warmth of your rays will protect and hold those I love in your safety."

In response I felt nothing, though I wasn't sure what I expected. The warmth of my own gods, perhaps? I knew there could be no word from Ben or John until they were either safe or dead, and I ached for some kind of reassurance.

Finally I lifted myself from the marble, finding that Sameen had moved to kneel beside me, waiting silently for me to finish. "You contacted your King, didn't you? You told him I needed to see him?" I nodded. "Good. And he'll come?"

"He's already on his way, my lady," I replied. "By the grace of the gods, he will be here soon. But Albizzi knows about it. He said...." I tried to think back through my drug-addled memories. "He said he was sending assets, mounted. He seemed very confident it would lead to a victory, and that..." I tried to think back, memories infuriatingly fuzzy. "That it would somehow lead to your family's downfall."

" _Madar jendeh,_ Sameen muttered in a language I was unfamiliar with but that was certainly a curse. She rose, priestess robes swirling around her feet as she started for the back of the cathedral. "I must get word to my family. Thank you, Daniel of Rocaille."

I stood as well. "Sameen!" At her look, I swallowed, hurrying to catch up. "Albizzi. He won't... he wouldn't kill John, would he?"

"The king?" She tilted her head slightly eyes narrowed as she considered it. "No. Not as long as he thinks he can be manipulated." Then she left.

I tried to be content with her words, and forget the very real knowledge that John was certainly not one to be manipulated.

When I returned to the dormitories I found Laurent in discussion with one of the priests of Shemesh. He gave a wide smile when he saw me, holding up a small dish and the remains of the wine they'd brought us with breakfast. "Brother Antonio has given me leave to perform the morning rites to Naamah, if you wish. There are gardens walled within the temple. Will you come with me?"

"Gladly," I murmured, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

We found a small garden with fruit trees and a decorative pond, small turtles bobbing along in the water. Lar seemed satisfied, and knelt to pour out the offerings of wine and honey. The finial of his completed marque peaked from the back of his shirt, a swirl of Eglantine flowers dancing on the wind, and I realized that his mother must have put something of him into the traditional house design - a grace and rhythm that suited him very much. Feeling again a rush of fondness for my friend, I knelt beside him, closing my eyes and opening my heart to Naamah.

Almost immediately I felt her presence, heard the beat of doves' wings against my eardrums. She had never deserted me, I realized - even through the worst of Mateo's humiliations, I'd been able to serve with pride. Naamah's gifts - the sweetness of passion and the headiness of desire - had always been with me. Part of me had worried, deep down, that some of the things he'd said about me being wired to take pleasure from shame were true. But now, praying, I was reassured that such things were only a small portion of her arts, and no less noble than all the others when shared with the right lover. 

It was only natural that I would be able to find a purity of worship in anything my passion desired. After all, I had been trained in all thirteen houses.

Most of all, I had been called to the aid of Elua's scions themselves, and his edict was one I would never betray. _Love as thou wilt,_ I felt him say, felt his kiss on my forehead. I remembered Piers' smile, and wept for my beautiful Scion of Camael, caught up and ruined by the games of powerful men. But he had loved me, and been happier for it.

And so had I.

I felt Laurent's arm around my shoulders, warm and still, and leaned into him until I'd cried myself out. "Thank you," I whispered finally, and he smiled, gently wiping the tears from my cheeks with a handkerchief and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"We'll be okay," he murmured, face pressed to my hair. "And so will they. I know it."

In that moment, in the cold early morning sunlight, it was easy to accept his words.

When we returned to our small dormitory I pushed the table up against the door, answering my friend's smirk with a confident smile of my own. "Massage," I told him, nodding towards the cot. "I am not yet so long gone from Balm as to let an adept of your skills walk around with stiff muscles."

"As my lord commands," Laurent replied, voice soft and husky, and I felt desire flare within me, pure and sweet and very, very welcome. Still, I fought to remember my disciplines, using a little of the leftover olive oil and working my fingers into his stiff and tight muscles, diligently addressing every part of his body. It was difficult not to become distracted... Laurent no Eglantine was still, in my opinion, one of the most exquisite specimens of his house, and perhaps the entire night court. Long dancer's legs with lean, compact muscles were dotted with freckles, leading to the most exquisitely round, well-muscled ass that I dug my fingers into with unfettered pleasure. His back was just as beautiful, broad-shouldered and strong, the vines and leaves of his marque a deep, rich green. The delicate, pale pink Eglantine blooms danced up his spine as if they were players in one of his performances, loose petals caught in the wind, winding over his skin.

Laurent gave a low groan as my fingers dug into his shoulders, breath coming harder - it was hard to ignore how he shifted under my ministrations. I could hardly blame him when the canon of Balm twined healing and sensuality and pleasure together at once. I watched the muscles of his ass and thighs tense as he squirmed. "Daniel...."

I drew my fingers teasingly down his spine. "Yes, my lord?"

"No my lord," he corrected me, sitting up and pulling me into a kiss. The desire that flared in me in return was such an unexpected relief that I moaned, arching against him, drinking in his kisses as my hands caressed his body with more intent.

Laurent's fingers worked similar arousements through my clothes, his lips trailing hot along my jaw. "Elua," he panted, "Daniel, will you have me?"

"Even though we are not contracted?"

Lar nipped lightly at my earlobe. "I am a free d'Angeline, and may choose to bestow my favors where I may. Even if my patron is among those still indebted to Naamah."

I let him pull my shirt off over my head, setting it aside with Piers' precious letter before claiming his mouth again. "So I'm your patron now?"

Laurent's fingers traveled down my midline, brushing the line of my cock through my breeches. "I think it suits you. Plus you've already paid me with that fantastic massage."

I leaned in to claim his mouth again, shedding the rest of my clothes and fitting myself against him on the narrow cot. "Will you think of my cousin while you serve me?" I couldn't help but ask, and Lar gave me another of his smiles, wry and a little self-conscious.

"A little, I think. But I do love you both, Daniel."

"Then I hope that you do," I whispered, and kissed him again.

Laurent and I had made love before, in Cereus house on the Longest Night, and I'd always remembered it fondly. It had been wonderful, with both of us working to show the other the full extent of our talents. I'd played the mare then, and rarely did else, other than with John on occasion. But it was wonderful, now, to let him straddle me on the cot, performing the _languisement_ with gentle focus before finally moving to sink down onto my cock.

As much as I generally preferred the opposite, I was certainly not in a state for that. And the warmth of his body felt exquisite around me, made moreso by his smile and the sweetness of his kisses, his soft gasps of pleasure as we begun to rock together slowly. I stroked my fingers through the thick satin of his hair, thanking him with kisses and touch for the gift of his body and his pleasure. It was wonderfully uncomplicated just to give myself over to it, revelling in the bunch of his thighs under my hands as he moved on me. That, in itself, was healing.

"Perhaps there is a little Balm in you, Eglantine," I murmured, and Laurent gave a breathless laugh, drawing back enough to look down at me, good humor in his eyes.

"There's definitely some Balm in me at the moment, and it's not at all little," he pointed out, grinding down on me harder, and a sharp, incredulous laugh escaped my lips.

"You're terrible!" I gasped, giving a harder thrust up into him, and Laurent's laugh caught on a moan.

"Terrible," he agreed, eyes darkening, and he tightened briefly around my cock. "Will you punish me for it, my lord?"

For a brief second I thought of Mateo, and faltered. But there was nothing of that here. Just my glorious friend with his lopsided smile and his long, long dancer's legs, and the warmth of our joining in the sunlight and safety of the temple. I pressed him onto his back and gave him what he wanted, pulling those legs up onto my shoulders as I sheathed myself inside him, angling as I moved until we were both breathless and trembling with pleasure.

"My darling," Lar whispered, pulling me closer, closer still, catching hold of one of his own calves and pulling it back behind his shoulder.

"Show-off," I gasped, but it let me press so close to him, push so deep. Lar's fingers tangled in my hair, clenched at my back, pulling me down and down and down, and I could feel our Bright Goddess smile from our offering as we drove each other's passion higher. When I finally spilled into him I couldn't help but sob at the joy of it, at the pleasure of Laurent shuddering around my cock, and we chased each last burst of sensation with insistent rocks until we were both limp and exhausted from pleasure.

"Leg cramp," Lar muttered, wriggling to untie himself from his self-inflicted knot, and I laughed softly, rubbing his thigh.

"You're going to blow Ben's mind, you know," I said without thinking, and watched my friend flush dark, glancing away with a smile both wistful and longing.

"He won't ever want me unless he loves me," he said, giving a little shake of his head as if it were an excuse.

I gave a soft hum, turning his face back to mine and claiming a kiss from that mouth, slow and soft and sweet. "How could anyone not love you?" I whispered, kissing his eyelids as his eyes grew bright. "He'll want you. He'll want you."

Lar pressed a trembling kiss to my mouth, stroking his fingers through your hair. "You know what they say about you, at the Night Court? That the day you were dedicated, Naamah herself taught you secret of making anyone in the world fall in love with you."

I felt my ears heat, pleased and self-conscious at such high praise. "That's not true, you know."

Laurent shook his head and kissed me again. "I really think it is, Daniel."

~~~


	14. Chapter 14

As the dusk fell, it grew harder and harder not to worry. How far was it to Lucca? A full day on foot for a fit man, but with mounts they should have made far better time. Surely they would have returned if they'd found John! It was hard not to imagine the worst.

Laurent tried to keep my mind off things, but eventually even the pleasure of his company and his beautiful body failed to distract me. When I finally heard the sound of hooves in the temple courtyard late in the evening I ran through the temple to meet them.

"Gentlemen, be welcome to the temple of Shemesh, but I must ask you to remove your weapons if you wish them to remain undamaged," one of the priests was telling the newcomers in accented D'Angeline. Ben, and a small contingent of the Lady de Morhban's men, including the man I recognized as the captain of her men at arms.

Ben had just tied up his horse and bowed low to the priest, removing the belts for his sword and daggers without question. Then he strode up the steps to pull me into his arms.

I felt cold fear wash over me, clinging to him. "You didn't find him."

"We found his caravan," Ben replied, voice low. "What remained of his guards. Far more dead bandits, but he is gone. There was more besides... do you know how to get word to the Medici?"

I nodded. "Come inside. Where's Reese?"

"With Lord Rocaille. They rode on to Lucca, to petition the Margrave for assistance to mount a search." Ben's shoulders sagged. "We rode fast. I don't know how the bandits were faster. We tried to track where they'd taken him, but.... Daniel, I'm so sorry. I failed you, I've failed the King, I - "

I stopped, cutting him off with my fingers to his lips. "You haven't. Please be strong for me. I can't give up hope now."

He nodded, eyes bright.

We found Sameen de Medici in her small family chapel, which looked rather like it had become her personal study. The Medici had their own small temple, of course, but this chapel still held the vault containing the ashes of the venerable Cosimo de Medici, the marble statue of his likeness turning its eyes up towards the great temple dome he had paid to have built in his lifetime. Several taper candles burned at his feet, and I bowed my head low in respect and uttered a silent prayer that we could prevent whatever end Mateo had planned for his descendents.

Sameen rose from her papers as we entered. "News?"

Ben bowed low, face grave. "None good. We found the king's convoy, set upon by bandits. He's missing, his guards dead. We found this on one of the dead attackers." He offered her something from his coat - a leather Caerdicci purse of very rich construction, which contained a few gold pieces and what proved to be a letter of credit from the Medici bank, to be redeemed at the branch in Lucca.

Sameen smoothed the paper flat on her desk and pulled a lamp closer, eyes narrowing as she peered closely at it. "It's good. The stamp is accurate, he must have someone on the inside. But Leonardo's signature is too heavy and deliberate, it would not pass under close authentication." She looked up at us. "My family is not behind this. I swear it on my husband's grave. And we will use all of our resources to help you find him."

"I would hope so, my lady. It's clear they mean to frame you," Ben replied with a grim smile.

 _Leonardo_. Sameen's older brother and Giovanni's only son, viewed by most as the head of the family. I'd heard Mateo mention him, hadn't I? I sank down onto one of the chapel pews and closed my eyes, trying to think back.

"Daniel?" Ben asked, and I held up a hand.

"Wait, please. I'm trying to remember, but the drugs he gave me were so strong...."

I tried to slow my breathing and clear my mind, moving back to the lessons I'd received from Lord Rocaille. How to truly observe and record the world to memory, and more importantly, how to revisit those memories and examine them afresh for any details beheld without conscious attention. It was difficult when I'd been half asleep from the drug. But our assignations had made me very accustomed to paying careful attention to Mateo's voice.

"Who will lead the family with Leonardo imprisoned?" I murmured aloud as the words came back to me. "And..." What else was it? Something about Sameen, and.... My eyes flew open. "And when they find the King of Terre D'Ange on their property, everything will crumble."

Whatever language Sameen growled under her breath, it was definitely a very colourful curse. She grabbed her quil from the inkwell and jammed it into the surface of the desk so hard that the nib must have split. "Do you know how much property we own? He said nothing else?"

My head ached from trying to remember. Helplessly, I shook my head. "Forgive me, my lady. He drugged me. I can try and go to him again - "

"Absolutely not," Ben growled behind me. "We disappeared and left dead men behind. Albizzi will do far worse than just spank you if he ever sees you again."

He was right, though part of me was willing to take the chance just to try and find John. I looked up at him helplessly. "Then what do we do?"

Sameen sighed, beginning to wind her long dark hair into a club at the back of her neck. "I can't petition the Signoria to bring in Albizzi without some kind of proof that he's actually done something. Given your damn king felt the need to travel in secret, it's now also a secret that he's missing. But I'll come out of hiding and mobilize my families resources, start searching our properties. We'll just have to find him before Albizzi can follow through on whatever bullshit he has planned."

She swept from the chapel, and Ben let out a long sigh of relief, shoulders sagging. I was suddenly reminded of the fact that he'd been riding since - since whatever time he'd rescued me from Albizzi the night before, and awake far longer than that, and I could see the bone weariness in him.

"You need to rest," I said softly, and Ben shook his head, cheek twitching as his jaw clenched tighter.

"I'll go out again with the Lady de Morhban's men, I - "

"They will listen to the Lady Medici as well as their mistress, I think," I told him, remembering a few things Sameen had said. "And you must rest, my dearest, before you're of no use to anyone."

"Daniel- " 

"Please? For me?"

Ben sighed, then nodded, offering no further protest as I took his hand and led him back to our small cell. Even though we were both grown, and Ben stocky and broad from years of training, we somehow fit comfortably on the narrow cot, curled together. Ben fell asleep nearly immediately, breathing slow and deep, and I lay awake worrying, sleep the farthest thing from my mind.

When Laurent came in I caught him up in whispers as he crouched beside the cot. He gave a brave smile and straightened, leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek. "I'm sure there's something we can do to help. We'll figure it out in the morning. Rest now."

But how could I rest with John missing? It was too easy to picture him lying bound somewhere - a run down hut or a cellar or the back of a wagon, hurt or unconscious or....

I clenched my eyes shut tighter, and had it not been for Ben's sleeping form at my back, may have given in to weeping.

Eventually exhaustion overtook me.

My dreams, when they came, were more of the same. John, bound and gagged, thrown amidst barrels in some dim-lit underground tunnel like he was nothing more than cargo. Dried blood crusted his dark curls at one temple, and I longed to pull his head into my lap, to remove his bonds and clean the wound carefully as I kissed his skin.

In my dream, I saw a blur of white fly by me in the darkness, a dove landing on his shoulder and pecking ineffectively at the dirty strip of cloth that held his gag in place. John stirred, tensing, and the dove fluttered to the dirt floor by his head. His green eyes blinked fuzzily, and when he saw what had woken him gave a soft sigh, relaxing somewhat.

The dove took wing, and I looked after it, surprised to see one end of the tunnel open to what was unmistakably the near-dawn sky. I followed it, the air growing colder as I stepped outside.

I caught a sense of the sun rising in the east, spilling over the hills to light the buildings of Firenze, the grand bronze-coloured dome of the great Temple standing tall above everything else. Then, from out of the blinding brightness of the rising sun the dove appeared again, flying past me so close to my face I could feel the brush of its wings, and I woke, breathing hard.

John. The dream. I tried to hold to the details, but it seemed as though they were slipping away. There was something I needed to remember, something important, and the more I tried to regain it the more despair I felt. If I was at home, I could have gone to Gentian house and engaged an adept to draw out my dreams. But here I was on my own, far from everyone, even Lord Rocaille.

Finally I extracted myself from under Ben's arm and dressed, silently stealing from the room. Shemesh's acolytes, who rose with the sun, nodded politely to me as I passed them. I returned to the small courtyard where Laurent and I had prayed to Naamah the day before, prostrating myself on the cobblestones before the spot where we'd left our offerings.

"Please," I begged aloud in D'Angeline, the word a helpless sob on my lips. "Blessed Naamah, bright and beloved. If ever I have pleased you with my service, I beg of you to lend me your guidance, please...."

I prayed until I was shivering - to her and to Blessed Elua himself, begging his aid in the name of love, for the benefit of his scion. For the oaths I had sworn to love and serve him. I prayed, begging until Laurent found me, wrapping a woolen blanket around my shoulders and tugging me gently upright.

I shivered and clung to him. "I don't know what to do. He needs me, Lar, and I - I'm so lost! If I lose him I lose everything, this is all I've ever been for, and I - "

A flurry of wings stopped my words - a dove, winging its way to land on the stone wall of the garden where we'd placed the offerings. It dropped a few white threads from its beak, then hopped back and took wing again, flying off into the brightness of the sun as it was climbed in the sky.

"You asked for guidance," Laurent said quietly. "It seems like our bright lady has answered. Do white threads mean anything to you?"

I took them from the stone, turning them in my fingers, smelling them - they seemed nothing beyond threads. And yet something tugged at my memory... the dove, pecking at something white, the brightness of the sun... "I wish she'd been a little more specific."

Lar gave a sympathetic hum. "Well... we are far from home, in the lands of another god. Perhaps this is as much as she can give."

Another god. 

Shemesh, god of the sun. 

I rose from my feet so quickly that I almost dropped the blanket, hurrying back inside with Lar trailing. In the cathedral main I spotted Sameen dressed in travelling clothes, speaking to one of the older priests, and hurried to them both, bowing low. "Brother, forgive my intrusion. I must make an offering to Shemesh immediately. Would you instruct me as to the proper tribute?"

"A tribute?" Sameen's eyebrows knit. "Forget that. I need your guard, we need every able man we can spare. Someone's raised the alarm that your King is here and missing, and every armed force in the city seems out and determined to find him. One of Albizzi's nephews started a fight with my cousin in the market late last night that left two men dead, the city's wound so tight it's about to snap. If we don't find your king - "

"That's why I need to make an offering. Please. My - my goddess is very insistent."

Sameen looked more dubious, but the priest gave me a smile. "Your offering yesterday was generous, child of angels. Shemesh is well pleased with all who pay tribute with an open heart and a contrite spirit. But if you wish your prayer to reach the greatest heights, our petitioners will often climb up the dome to make their supplications. Perhaps Signora Medici can show you the way?"

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Please." I dropped fluidly to my knees in front of her. "My lady, I've done all you asked. Please..."

"Gods, get up. Fine. But hurry."

I nodded, turning and catching Laurent's eye where he hung back. "Go wake Ben, please?" Then, passing the main altar, I left the remainder of the purse Mateo had given me, bowing my head reverently to the star of Shemesh, then following Sameen out of the cathedral main and to the steep, narrow steps that wound up into the dome.

It was cold, and colder as we climbed outside the temple, the end of the staircase a narrow flat walkway surrounding copper-colored dome. The slight cloud cover of the morning had thickened, partly obscuring the sun, but I prayed it would be enough. Still towering above us, the pinnacle of the dome held another of the great bronze stars of Shemesh, but I ignored it for the time being, turning instead to the east and kneeling down on the narrow walkway facing the sun.

Sameen sank to her knees beside me with a sigh, bowing until her forehead touched the stone, then rising again, lifting her hands with her palms to face the sun. "Shemesh the golden, Shemesh the mighty, Shemesh the constant. He that brings light, he that brings warmth, he that brings life. O holy and eternal, praised and revered, through whom comes all bounty and wisdom. O Shemesh the merciful, we supplicate ourselves at the altar of your wisdom and compassion, and beg with humble hearts and contrite spirit for you to hear us." Then she looked at me expectantly.

Heart pounding, I repeated her motion, and as many of her words as I could, bowing again on instinct before raising my face to the sun. "O exalted one, I beg you forgive my unworthiness to ask. I am a stranger in your land, I am not of your people, but I lay before you and offer you my hope and despair, and plead for your guidance in this time of need. I pray for assistance for the sake of your own people, O Lord, who have long been caught up in turmoil and strife in the games of power. I beg of you to give us the guidance to let us prevent further strife. Please, ineffable Lord, show me where to find my King. I beg a sign, a clue, I beg your guidance so that it might prevent further strife among your people."

Then I waited, eyes turned towards the sun where it shone bright from behind the cloud cover, nearly blinding. At my side, Sameen sighed. "We're wasting our time, Daniel no Rocaille. Shemesh doesn't work like that."

"Well, he needs to!" The words burst from my lips in frustration, and I threw myself against the balustrade, leaning up towards the sun. "You keep your temples safe from animosity, but your people still fight in the streets, my lord! This feud spills the blood of your people, and it will spill more ere its end if we do not put a stop to it! Just tell me where to find him! Give me this and I will accept any price, any consequence!"

"Daniel," Sameen said urgently, and I turned, suddenly feeling flushed and overheated from my supplications.

The clouds had shifted as I'd spoken, a single ray of the sun hitting the bronze star of Shemesh behind me, somehow reflecting points of light down towards us. As we rose, the clouds shifted again, and a clear and bright ray of light cut through the gloom, falling upon something in the hills beyond the city that briefly glinted bright.

I clutched Sameen's arm. "There. What's there? What is that?"

She raised herself onto her tiptoes as if to see better, eyes narrowing. "We... have an estate in that direction. There's a bronze water tower that helps supply the vineyards...."

Suddenly in a rush the details of my dream came back to me. "Wine. There's a underground tunnel with barrels, they were wine barrels!"

"How do you know that?"

"Because I saw it! That's where he is!" I took off for the stairs, barely managing not to trip in my haste, running back to the room where we'd slept. Ben and Laurent had just emerged, my cousin dressed for travel and buckling on his vambraces. "I know where he is, we have to go!"

Sameen caught up to us. " _You_ can't go. Albizzi and his guards charged you with the death of your patron. You should have killed them while you had the chance. I'll take your guard, we'll take some of my father's men -"

"No." Ben's voice was low and gruff. "I go where he goes. We take the rest of Lady de Morhban's men, and we go after our King ourselves. Will you guide us, or no?"

For a moment she just glared at him, and I was certain she'd refuse. Then she turned for the front of the temple. "Get a move on, then, before some idiot starts any more shit."

I caught Laurent's arm before he could follow. "I need you to stay here."

Lar went pale, shaking his head. "Please don't. I can help, I - "

"Stay here," I repeated. "Stay safe. If something happens to me - "

"Nothing's going to happen to you!"

I took Piers letter from inside my shirt, pressing it into his hands. "Give this to John. If something happens to him... give it to Lord Rocaille. Make sure that justice is done, Laurent, please."

Swallowing hard, he nodded, giving me a brief, tight hug. "Just bring him back safe, alright?"

~~~

When we reached the manor we found Lady de Morhban's men awake and ready to ride. Soon we were on the road, me in a quilted leather Gambeson that felt too large and ungainly, a dagger at my belt I didn't know how to use. Sameen had donned Lady de Morhban's livery and breeches, her long hair bound tight in a club at the base of her neck, and were it not for her size I would have thought her a man, fearlessly leading the charge as we rode from Firenze and out into the countryside. I tried to keep sense of where we were as we rode into the hills, to take my bearings from the city and the position of the sun, but what had seemed so clear from the dome of the temple was not so on the ground, the road winding as we climbed up into the hills. Still, something inside me pressed me forward, urgent and powerful, as if it were pulling me to John's side.

Then as we rounded the bend, I caught sight of mounted men ahead of us on the road, in the unmistakable colours of Albizzi's livery. Ahead of us, Sameen pulled over to the head of Lady de Morhban's guard, shouting something at him I couldn't hear over the wind. Then she wheeled away, spurring her horse back to us. "Come with me, there's a back way! The men will keep them busy, we have to get there first!"

Taking us back up the road, she turned her horse off into the underbrush, an overgrown riding trail we couldn't have seen otherwise. Branches scratched at my arms and legs, and I was certain my horse would have pulled up without Ben spurring his own mount harder behind me. I leaned down against my horse's neck for protection from the foliage, praying Sameen was right, praying for the men who'd stayed behind to stall Albizzi's force.

Then we were clear of the trees, riding up to the place that came back to me clearly from my dream, and I gave a sob of relief.

But unlike in my dream, a camp of ten or more men occupied the clearing between us and the winery tunnels. Bandits, from the looks of it, stumbling from where they grouped around campfires, going for their arms.

Sameen didn't hesitate, drawing her sword and spurring her horse into the fray with a battlecry that would have made even the most hardened Skaldi warrior proud. Ben rode past me hot on her trail. "Stay back!" he yelled, drawing the sword from his back, and my heart ached at the necessity of it; a Cassiline only drew their sword to kill. But there was nothing to it. Even mounted, could the two of them really take on the whole group? Was their surprise and armour and fighting discipline enough of an advantage? I couldn't know.

Then I looked towards the tunnels. My companions seemed to have drawn the bandits to them. If I could get in and get John, perhaps we could make a run for it back the way we'd come....

I spurred my horse forward along the treelines, successfully skirting the camp and sliding off near the mouth of the cave. There was a hitching post, thank god, for I didn't dare leave the animal untethered, and after looping the reins I took the cave at a run, drawing the dagger at my belt.

One man had been asleep inside the cave, just waking in the ruckus. His eyes widened as he saw me, turning for his sword belt. In a moment of panic I lunged forward with strength I didn't know I had, burying the dagger to the hilt in the space where his gambeson met his neck. He gurgled, falling forward, but I couldn't stop to think about what had just happened, yanking the dagger free and continuing deeper.

A sputtering torch on the wall provided little light, but still marked the place where they'd left John, bound on the floor with a dirty horse-blanket thrown over him. I fell to my knees, pulling the gag from his mouth, then starting to saw at the rope at his wrists and ankles with the bloody dagger. "John! Wake up, please wake up, we have to go, oh god please...."

Dark eyelashes fluttered, and I gave a sob of relief, moving on to the rope at his ankles as the one on his wrists gave way. "... Daniel?" he rasped, blinking blurily at me. "How..."

"I'll explain later. We have to get you out of here, we have to get back to - "

" _WHORE!_ "

The voice that hollered from the mouth of the tunnel was one I was entirely too familiar with... and held more rage than I'd ever encountered. I scrambled to my feet, dropping my dagger in haste and skittering backwards. However Mateo degli Albizzi had gotten here, the look in his eyes told me that he was out for my blood. All I could think was to draw him away from John, and pray that somehow he could escape. "My lord! Please, I can explain everything - "

Mateo had lost his sword, and the tunic over his armor was bloodstained, but I didn't dare hope that it was his. He pulled the torch from the wall as he stalked towards me, catching up to me far too fast. In moments he'd slammed me up against the side of the tunnel with a hand at my throat, and I struggled to push at him, gasping for breath. "My lord - please - !"

"You'll rue the day you crossed me, worthless slut!" he spat, then drew the flaming torch back and beat me across the temple.

I screamed, the impact of the pitch-soaked wood nothing compared to the searing heat, burning hotter as he ground the torch into my skin. I wasn't made for pain - the world swam in front of me, and for one despairing moment I believed that the last thing that I'd see in life would be the bastard who was squeezing the life from me.

Then I heard my name from the mouth of the tunnel, and turned to look as Mateo pulled back.

There is a move that every Cassiline knows, that has been used so few times that it is the stuff of legends. The _terminus_ , a mercy kill for one's charge when all is lost, with suicide to follow. It requires the brother to hit a target the size of a dime from fifty feet, unerringly. For a moment, as Ben drew his arm back, I thought of this, and felt strangely at peace.

Then a moment later I was staring at the hilt of his dagger embedded in Albizzi's neck in front of me. At the same time, John surged up from the ground, driving my lost dagger deep into Albizzi's thigh.

The man gurgled, falling back, and I gave in to darkness.

~~~


	15. Chapter 15

In my dreams, I was burning. Heat overwhelmed me, and I tore at my clothes, gasping for breath. I saw myself in the temple, in front of the bronze star of Shemesh, driving my dagger again into the neck of the bandit I'd killed, and felt the heat of his rage for defiling his temple with death.

 ** _You said you'd give anything,_** a voice boomed in my head. _**I listened. I granted your request. Now payment is required.**_

"I'll pay whatever you demand," I gasped. "My life for John's, if you demand it. Just tell me he lives - tell me he's alright!"

**_He lives. And I have no use for your life, child of angels. But I will take the part of your life which you have used for and against my people._ **

Another wave of heat washed over me, and I cried out, writhing at the pain of it, feeling like my whole body was burning. I could hear voices, indistinct but panicked, all around me.

Then, just as suddenly, the heat dropped off, the pain lessened, and the darkness around me grew still.

I felt someone lift me, supporting my head. "I believe his fever has broken." Lord Rocaille. I felt him press something to my lips, voice gentler. "Drink, Daniel. It will help with the pain."

I opened my lips, tasting the bitterness of a strong willow bark tea, trembling as I summoned what felt like all my strength to drink it down. "John...." I whispered, and felt warm hands clasp one of mine.

"I'm here. I'm here, Daniel, I'm alright. Just get better, oh Elua, please get better...."

John was alright. It was all that I needed. I sighed, feeling the willow bark calm my frayed nerves, and gave in to sleep.

~~~

I awoken in my bed in the Lady de Morhban's house. There was something over my right eye, and when I went to brush it away a shock of pain lanced through me. I cried out.

"... Daniel?" I turned to find that Laurent had curled on the bed beside me, waking from a doze. He gave a sigh of relief as he saw me. "Careful, the side of your face is bandaged. The healers don't think your eye is in danger, but... he burned you pretty badly."

Mateo. I swallowed hard, shifting to lean back against the pillows weakly, parting my lips to the cup of water Laurent offered and sipping it slowly, trying to get my wits about me. "Is John alright? How long was I out...?"

Laurent nodded, some of the tension leaving his smile. "He's fine, thanks to you. He stayed by your side until your fever broke, he'd barely let the healers see to him. As did Ben. You were delirious for two days, until last night, we were afraid it was infected, we... didn't know if we'd lose you..." he stopped, shivering as he shook his head, and I could see from his worry how difficult it must have been for all of them. "John's gone to the Signoria now. There's... a lot of mess to clean up."

I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining too easily how monumental it would be. "Mateo degli Albizzi... he's dead, isn't he?"

Laurent nodded. "His oldest nephew assumes control of the household, though with all Mateo stands accused of, the fines may well bankrupt them. As soon as you're well, they'll need you at the Signoria to testify." He studied my face seriously. "Will you be alright?"

It was a hard question to answer. Two of my patrons, one of my best and my worst, both dead within as many days because of me. As much as I'd needed to win against Albizzi and as much as I'd hated him for what he'd done to John and to poor Piers, I'd never wanted him dead. But I had begged for a foreign god's aid, and he had given it. I had to accept the consequences.

My fingers found the edge of the gauze that bound the side of my face. "...I'm going to scar, aren't I?"

"Maybe Naamah will see you healed...." Lar started, then gave a helpless sigh. He, of the most competitive houses of the Night Court, knew well the consequences.

_Unfit to serve._

_I will take the part of your life which you have used for and against my people_ , rang the voice from my fever-dreams, and I swallowed hard.

"Tell Lord Rocaille - tell John I will come to the Signoria whenever they need me."

~~~

 

By the time I was brought before the Signoria of Firenze the next day later, it seemed as though things were well in hand. Lord Rocaille and the Lady de Morhban had returned from Lucca bearing the evidence that Sameen's poor husband had died to uncover, compliments of assistance from the Margrave. With Piers' letter in the mix, it seemed as though there was no question of Mateo's fault, and those who had worked with him - cousins, allies - had already been ferreted out and stood judgement in his absence.

The Signoria was crowded and noisy with the men of Firenze, which I could understand. Ths rivalry was long, and had taken its toll on the city. The reckoning was one to be witnessed. One of the members of the Signoria was waiting for Lord Rocaille when we arrived, bowing his head politely, and the crowd parted as he lead us through the audience to the floor of the Signoria, where John stood.

I hadn't seen John since the tunnel in the mountains. He'd stayed at the Signoria all evening, deep in the case against the Albizzi. With the small contingent of guard he had brought with him dead, both Ben and the Captain of Lady de Morhban's guard refused to leave his side. When I finally saw him in the Signoria he looked pale and exhausted, but somehow stood with far more carriage and nobility than I'd ever seen in him. It occured to me suddenly that I had yet to see John standing in the role of Regent of Terre D'Ange, and the impression I received from him was one of far more propriety and regalness than I'd ever seen in him before.

He seemed every inch a king, and I...

I was scarred, and broken.

Still, I returned the soft, sweet smile he gave when he saw me. When asked, I told the Signoria everything I'd heard Mateo say, and more - what Piers had said, what Mateo had done to him. I saw rumblings of displeasure among the Signoria, and shame from his nephew - if the D'Angeline sickness of loving the same gender could sometimes be forgiven, using it to subjugate another was a completely different matter.

Finally the Signoria came to a consensus, naming punishments for those involved, ranging from fines to imprisonment. To the Albizzi family they named banishment from Firenze, including a seizing of all of their lands and assets. I watched Mateo's oldest nephew blanch and bow his head, eyes glittering, and wondered if his bride-to-be's father would still allow the union.

"Esteemed lords of the Signoria, I must protest!"

The voice that spoke was undoubtedly female - banned from the Signoria - and a murmur rose up from the crowd. Moments later a young boy was pushing his way to the front of the audience, hopping over the barrier to stand next to Leonardo de Medici on the Signoria floor. Not a young boy at all, of course, but Sameen.

"Esteemed lords, Mateo degli Albizzi and those who conspired with him have paid the price of their conspiracy," Sameen said plainly, dark eyes flashing. "To pauper and exile those left to pick up the pieces of his betrayal will do nothing more than breed more misery. I will not stand by and see the same mistakes made as when my great great grandfather Cosimo sought the justice that only escalated the feud between our families. I beseech you - stay this sentence!"

The speaker of the Signoria, Francesco d'Antonio, frowned. "Leonardo, your sister breaks all rules by being here. Take her away, we will not permit her to meddle in the affairs of men."

It was not Leonardo that answered, however, but John. "Esteemed gentlemen of the Signoria, Sameen de Medici is the future Queen of Terre D'Ange, and as such I beg that you excuse her presence - she is here at my behest. I would strongly urge you to support her proposed action, both for the good of your city, and in celebration of the future of our countries."

d'Antonio stared at John, openly incredulous. "Surely your majesty jests!"

John returned his stare evenly. "Not at all."

"But - Sameen de Medici? She's a widow, and old, and - and dressed like a boy!"

John inclined his head respectfully, though I could see the corner of his mouth twitch as he admirably held back a smile. "Even so, her wisdom is to my liking. Leonardo de Medici was kind enough to offer me his sister's hand in marriage, to secure an alliance that will give all of us the great benefit of an open trade route through their allies in Lucca, all the way through Terre d'Ange, up into Tutland and beyond. It was what my mother had intended, and what Mateo degli Albizzi killed her to prevent."

"I'm pretty sure he offered his _other_ sister," Laurent muttered beside me, but I kept my mouth shut. I didn't have to wonder - the anger flashing in Sameen's eyes said it all.

"This is why I traveled here in secret," John continued, as if unaware of Sameen's glare. "I was to meet Signora Medici in the great temple of Shemesh where she had taken refuge, where we would swear our vows before your god before Albizzi could know to stop it. Do you doubt me?"

"Ah - of course not, Majesty."

"Good. Then Firenze will do me the honor of allowing me to celebrate my nuptials in your fine city before returning with my Queen to Terre D'Ange?"

"We would be honored, Majesty!"

"And in honor of that, you will take my Queen's wishes into account regarding the Albizzi household?"

"Of course, Majesty."

"Then that's settled." John turned to give Sameen a winning smile, bowing his head to her and her brother. "I will receive you in the house of the Lady de Morhban when you are ready to work out the details," he told them, and swept for the exit, leaving the rest of us to follow.

Two coaches waited at the ready, a rented one, and the Lady de Morhban's, which had brought us to the Signoria. She was waiting with it, and opened the door with a bow to John before leaving to join Lord Rocaille in the rented carriage.

John caught hold of my hand before I could consider the same, pulling me up the steps and into the carriage with Laurent and Ben following. Once inside, he drew the curtains on the windows and then pulled me close, cupping the unbandaged side of my face and claiming my mouth with a soft, needy sob. "I'm so sorry," he gasped, stroking his fingers into my hair restlessly, as if he expected me to disappear. "I was foolish to come here alone, I was foolish not to tell you what I planned, and I - gods, Daniel!"

My heart ached to do nothing more than kiss him, to wriggle into his arms and be close to him and forget that anything had ever been amiss. "It's alright," I managed to whisper, hands stroking over his face, his doublet, needing the reassurance of his presence as much as he did. "It's alright. You're safe. That's all that matters."

John drew a shivering breath, shaking his head. "Ben's told me what happened. What you had to do. Not the details, but..." his green eyes grew bright, moving over the bandage on the side of my head. "Every way that Albizzi hurt you... it's too much. It's not worth it."

"You'd be dead if I hadn't," I whispered, and caught hold of his hands, bending to press my lips to his knuckles so I didn't have to look at him. "It is the service I promised you, my King, and I would do it a thousand times over. I only - I only regret that it has made me unfit for you!"

Across from us on the other bench of the carriage, Ben gave a soft growl. "What the hell are you talking about?"

John's hands tightened on mine, his voice suddenly cold. "How has that bastard harmed you?"

I couldn't hold back my sob, hot tears escaping my eyes, soaking into my bandages and stinging the tender skin underneath. I managed to gesture to the bandages. "I'm - I am _marred_ , my lord! I am unfit for Naamah's service, and d-doubly unfit to stand beside my King!"

John dropped my hands suddenly, drawing back, and a new wave of despair washed over me. I pressed my hand to my undamaged eye, trying to calm my sobbing breath. Then John spoke, voice tight with equal parts horror and sorrow. "... do you honestly think so little of my love?" 

Somehow that made me feel worse than if he'd outright rejected me. I raised my head to look at him, shaking it. "No. Never. But you are regent, my lord. You need someone at your side who is - wh-whole - "

"To hell with that, and to hell with anyone who would think that!" The words exploded with such vehemence that even I drew back. "All I've ever wanted is to be with you!" John continued, skin flushing with the passion of his words. "How could I bear to see Blessed Elua in the True Terre D'Ange Beyond if I set aside the gift of love he'd given me for something so - so superficial! I've waited and sacrificed and hidden my love for years in the hope that we would one day come to this moment, and I won't do it anymore!" John reached for my hands again, clutching them, desperate. "I love you, and I know you love me. I can't keep doing this without you. Be my consort. Please. Please, Daniel, I beg you."

For a moment I couldn't speak, my throat tight, overwhelmed with the passion of his declaration. I wanted to agree, but the memory of all I needed to disclose to him resurfaced, and before I could think of how best to phrase it I heard myself say, "I've had sex with my cousin, who is also my brother."

"With your...." John's brows knit slightly. Then his eyes slid to Ben, who was red-faced with horror. Inexplicably, the tension seemed to melt from John's body, a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth. " _Ah._ "

"Told you he wouldn't care about that," I heard Laurent murmur, but I could only stare at John, incredulous.

"... Ah?" I managed to squeak, and John's expression softened into a sweet smile.

He reached to cup the unbandaged side of my face again, stroking gently. "Who you go to bed with has never mattered to me, darling. Don't you know that by now? It doesn't matter any more than what you will look like when healed. All I need is your love."

"You have it. You've always had it," I whispered, and he relaxed more.

"Then all is well," he said, leaning in to seal his words with a soft, sweet kiss. "Only...."

I tensed again. "Yes?"

John opened his mouth again, then closed it, finally looking to Ben. "The prefect of the Cassiline order was clear to me when I requested your service that you were not yet a full priest. I assume this all means you have not... ah... sworn certain vows?"

Still flushed, Ben bowed his head. "I cannot swear vows to Cassiel that would conflict with the vows I have sworn to - to Naamah, your majesty."

John gave a soft, interested hum, eyes moving briefly down his body in a way that made Ben squirm. Then he turned his attention back to me, desire and adoration plain in his gaze. "I'd like it very much if the two of you would consent to a showing for me sometime, if he agrees."

I heard Ben choke, but I could only draw soft breath, suddenly feeling more desire for John - for both of them - than I could have ever anticipated.

Fortunately the carriage came to a stop at that moment, and John smiled, leaning in to press another soft kiss to my lips. "We will speak on it when this matter of marriage is concluded," he told me. "I hope you approve of my choice?"

I nodded immediately - whatever fear I'd had of Sameen de Medici was now merely awe and respect. The rest of Terre D'Ange, well... that might take some adjustment. "I'm not sure she does, though."

"We'll work it out," John replied with a smirk, stepping out of the carriage as the door opened and offering his hand to me.

~~~

 

The Medici family arrived after dusk, both Leonardo and Sameen with their aging father, Giovanni, and Sameen's tiny half-sister from his second wife, Giovanna. She seemed as unlike Sameen as could be, looking around at the D'Angeline guards and servants of Lady de Morhban's household with wide, slightly terrified eyes, then dropping into a low curtsey when her father bowed to John.

"Well met, Giovanni." John greeted him with a hand clasp and the simple d'Angeline kiss of greeting. "I apologize that I have not been able to respond to your offer of allegiance before now. I hope you don't mind if I speak with Sameen alone for a few minutes before we proceed with further negotiations? I will bring a chaperone."

The idea of Sameen de Medici needing a chaperone almost made me laugh aloud, and the Lady de Morhban gave an involuntary noise of mirth which she somehow skillfully managed to turn into speech. "I'd be honored to serve my liege as chaperone."

"Of course," Giovanni replied, eyes darting to Sameen. "Though - majesty, forgive me if my intentions were not made clear - I had intended to offer you my youngest, Giovanna."

"I know," John said simply, "And still I would speak with Sameen, unless my preference is disagreeable to you?"

"Not at all. I simply would not insult your Majesty by offering a wife who has been with another man - "

"Such things do not matter to D'Angelines, Signore," John replied evenly. "Will you allow me a word with your eldest daughter?"

Giovanni shrugged helplessly, then nodded. "Please behave," he whispered to Sameen as she passed, who shot him an annoyed look. John caught my eye, and I followed them as well, letting the Lady de Morhban take us into her library.

"With all due respect to your Majesty," Sameen started, "you definitely do not want to marry me."

John shrugged. "You can't deny it would be a very logical and valuable union. Beyond that, what you did in the Signoria kind of did it for me."

Sameen regarded him evenly. "Disguising myself as a boy?"

"That too, but I mean asking mercy for that poor Albizzi boy. Listen, Sameen. I need to be very frank about something. I'm not going to marry your fifteen year old sister. I'm really not into fifteen year old girls. I remember being fifteen. Also, I'm not really into girls at all, but especially fifteen year old girls, and it's important to me to have a wife who fully understands what she's agreeing to. So how about you and I get hitched instead and just like, never have sex but say that we did?" John smiled winningly.

While I knew John's distinct preference for men, somehow it had never occured to me that he'd forgone the company of women completely, and I felt a rush of dismay that I'd never picked up on such a thing. For a long moment Sameen stared at him, eyes narrowing imperceptibly. Remembering her skill with a sword - and a serving platter, I held my breath. Finally she spoke. "Would I have to actually spend time with you?"

"Well, three or four times a year. For appearances sake, politics and all that."

"Once a year."

"Twice?"

Sameen raised her head. "And I get to continue my weapons training, no questions asked."

John gave a surprised laugh, bowing his head. "My dear lady, given that said weapons training was instrumental in saving my life, you can do whatever you like."

"Good. And I'm not going to censor myself around you just because you're a King."

"I would expect nothing less."

"Hm." The corners of Sameen's mouth twitched into a small, satisfied smile. "Fine. Done."

"Excellent!" John clapped his hands together. "Now, as is D'Angeline custom, both of us are completely welcome to take lovers or a Royal Consort as long as there is no question of the line of succession. And since I believe you currently have a, ah, _arrangement_ with the Lady de Morhban, I hope you won't mind if I finally make an honest man out of my boyfriend...?"

Was it my imagination, or did Sameen's skin flush slightly red? "Did she tell you that?"

"Oh, don't be shy, sweetie." Placing both hands on her shoulders from behind, the Lady de Morhban leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek. "I can't help if it's obvious to His Majesty how perfect we are together."

I gave a soft laugh, suddenly understanding completely and wondering how I hadn't seen it before. "So this is what you had planned."

John grinned, eyes sparkling with good humor as he drew me close for a kiss. "It's the perfect arrangement, isn't it? We'll all get what we want and no fifteen year olds will be harmed in the making."

Sameen's eye-roll was impressive, but she didn't deny it. Still, she frowned. "The Caerdicci may question the validity of our union if I fail to bear you children. Especially considering my age. Can you not say the D'Angelines would not do the same?"

The Lady de Morhban gave a wave of one hand. "Oh, there's ways around that, we live in a modern age, after all. And you're hardly a spinster. _And_ tiny Sameens would be so adorable! Let's do it, sweetie."

"I'll think about it," Sameen muttered, and John smiled.

"I will as my Queen desires," he said gently. "If not, my sister is quite keen to carry on the line of House Courcel, and has already prayed to Eisheth for that end. Her consort and new husband are quite in agreement."

"You D'Angelines are weird," Sameen muttered, and as John smiled at me, the Lady de Morhban echoed my thoughts.

"You wouldn't have us any other way."

~~~


	16. Chapter 16

And so it was that while we waited for the remainder of John's guard to travel to meet us from Marsilikos, John found himself a Queen that never wanted to be one. "I'm completely mad for her," he would tell anyone who would listen, and while Sameen rolled her eyes, I was quite certain that he was, in many ways, actually quite charmed by her. And as the weeks went on, Sameen's answering eye-rolls grew slightly less pronounced. At times I'd even catch her do little more than shake her head, a small, long-suffering smile on her lips.

Perhaps it had to do with the fact that we had all, for the time, come to stay with Lady de Morhban. Sam, as she still insisted we call her - who I had up until that point quite forgotten to be of Kushiel's bloodline line - and John's new wife seemed equally matched in bed. While I couldn't imagine how two women who were essentially of Mandrake's canon could possibly find harmony in the bedroom, both women seemed near to glowing from their escapades. I prudently stopped trying to discern which of their injuries were from training and which were from lovemaking. It was safer, that way.

And I had John. My lover, now my King, and now able to be by my side every night. It took time for us both to heal, our bodies aching and exhausted from everything we'd been through, but even just being beside him brought a level of gentle intimacy I'd hardly imagined was possible.

When I wasn't with John, I prayed. I frequented the Grand Temple and the smaller one near Lady de Morhban's residence. I left the offerings of Albizzi's money - two thirds - and prayed for forgiveness for the offenses I had wrought during my time in Firenze. For the three men, two of them Caerdicci, who were dead because of me. And slowly, as my burns healed, my dreams of daggers and blood in winery tunnels faded, until the only dreams that made me wake in tears were dreams of Piers.

I let the others coddle me. Lord Rocaille bought me new-copied books to read while I recuperated, more than I'd ever owned before and enough that I finally had to beg him to stop, worried about transporting them all home again. John brought in Clothiers and Ateliers, pretending it was all for himself but insisting on ordering clothes for me, beautiful outfits in italian silk and wool. Ben hardly left my side, and I'm sure would have slept with me had John not been there. It was stifling, but I could see the guilt in their eyes when they looked at me. So I let them, knowing I'd never be able to convince them that they were not at fault in my injuries.

My skin scarred when it healed, as I'd known it would, despite all the care and salves of the Yesuite doctor Lord Rocaille had hired. Not as badly as I'd feared, but bad enough; the very top of my ear would never fully grow back, nor would some of my hair, and the skin on my temple and cheekbone was shiny and tight with scar tissue, tugging at the corner of my eye in a way that was asymmetrical and distinctly unnatural. I could not return to the service of Naamah. Still, I forced myself to accept it. I had offered a foreign god anything in return for John's life, and all he had taken was my beauty and my occupation. 

I could do far worse, I tried to tell myself. Naamah's service had never been my only occupation, nor my only calling. 

"They're beautiful," John whispered as he kissed my scars, reverent and gentle, lips tender against new-healed skin with more love and adoration than I'd ever seen in him. "You gained them for my sake. How could I find them anything but beautiful?" I wanted to argue, but it was undeniably true, in his eyes. And the way he looked at me... how could I have imagined that such a thing could make me love him more than ever?

The morning we were to set off back to Terre D'Ange we curled together in bed after making love, and I closed my eyes to the slow stroke of John's fingers, up and down my spine. They stopped at the base of my neck, trailing over my unlimned skin, and he pressed a kiss to my hair. 

"When we're home and this whole wedding thing is over with, I'll ask Uncle Harold to draw up one last contract for us," he murmured against my hair. "I'll gift you with more than enough to complete your marque. Then you'll be a free D'Angeline, and I can name you as my consort and give you a suite in the palace so we can see each other whenever we like."

I'd long ago become accustomed to John's grand declarations; what was new was the fact that he could actually follow through on them. I smiled, kissing his neck, then raised myself up enough to look down on him. "There's no need. I already have enough to finish my marque," I admitted.

Immediately a shadow moved over John's face. "Albizzi's money?"

I shook my head. "I've already made an offering of some of that. The rest I shall give in offering to Blessed Elua. The money for my marque is in my coffers at home."

John's fingers stroked my cheek gently, under the tight pink scars. "But you didn't want it completed before you left?"

I gave my head a small shake. "I... felt like I had business unfinished, with Naamah. I needed to see it through, to complete the task for which she sent me to you."

John gave a slow nod, watching me seriously. "And have you?"

I turned my head to kiss his palm, happy to hide my scars from his eyes. "There has been justice for your mother's death, and you are safely married, my lord." I turned my eyes back to him. "Are you happy, John?"

He nodded, slow and somber. "If you still consent to be my consort?"

"I do," I whispered, despite part of me still fearing he would come to his senses and change his mind.

"Then I have every happiness," he breathed, arching up to kiss me. "Finish your marque, my darling. I only wish I could be the one to pay for your finial, as I was for the start."

At that comment I smiled, feeling a rush of pleasure, and cuddled closer, winding my arms around him as I nuzzled his ear. "You will be," I whispered. "All the coin in my coffers is your patron gifts, all saved for this moment."

John moaned, soft and trembling, pressing me onto my back and claiming my mouth. His eyes were bright as he looked down on me, and I knew I had done right by him. "Praise Elua for blessing my life with you," he whispered, and set about to claiming me again, with such passion and adoration that I could feel Naamah smile upon us.

~~~

Returning home, however, was harder than I thought. The day we were to make port in Marsilikos, John called Ben into our cabin. "I've written to the Prefect of your order and requested that you stay in my service," he told him. "I will have need for someone trained in the way of the Cassilines to protect my consort, when I can declare him so. I trust you will find this service acceptable?"

"Majesty, it would be my honor." Ben bowed fluidly, in Cassiline form, and I was relieved to see that the small smile on his face was genuine. Shamefully, I had not had much time alone with him since our ordeal. In part it was because I was with John, and in part because Laurent had found himself in exceptionally high demand during the remainder of our time in Firenze, and had taken full advantage of it, with Ben to guard him. I was more glad for my friend's fortune than I was envious, though I'd rather hoped he and Ben would grow closer together instead. 

"Thank you." John hesitated for a moment, glancing back to me, and I saw a hint of regret come into his expression. "The wedding preparations will take a week, once we reach the City of Elua. My new Queen will stay with me a few weeks more before returning to Firenze. As much as I hate to, I must practice more discretion than I would like, and it would not be seemly for me to declare a consort before she leaves. So... when I cannot, would you keep your cousin company for me? If it pleases you both?"

Ben's eyes flicked to mine, a soft flush coming across his features that I knew mirrored mine. "I will protect and serve, your majesty," he replied softly, a reply which seemed to satisfy John.

Still we did not speak of it. I was well aware of Laurent's adoration for my cousin, his longing painfully obvious to everyone except, it seemed, Ben. And beyond that... it felt as though something hung in the air between Ben and I, a barrier of sorts, unspoken and uncomfortable. Perhaps it was his guilt, his failure to protect me as his charge. Perhaps it was the reminder that John loved me. I was too afraid to broach the subject.

Part of me was acutely, painfully aware that we were not a matched pair anymore, and wondered if he would even still want me.

The awareness of my scars became even more acute as we returned to the city of Elua to great fanfare - how could there be anything but, with both the Queen's grandchildren returning with their new spouses? They were beautiful, I couldn't help but think, and well matched; Sameen held herself with a quiet seriousness that came off as more regal than surley, and Niels de Mereliot had always been one of the most handsome men in the court with his brown hair and bright blue eyes, Anna happy and laughing on his arm with May in attendance. They returned in triumph, but after all that had happened in Firenze I felt somehow a stranger. I could feel the eyes of the peers of the realm on my face, seeing my scars as much as I had styled my hair to try and hide them, and so I held myself back, not engaging in anything more than polite conversation. I was too afraid to really engage, to see the disgust and pity that would inevitably come from people who had once been my admirers and patrons.

I could tell that Lord Rocaille was worried, hovering near me as if he expected something to go wrong. But he was the one to save me as dinner finished. Perhaps he simply saw how difficult it was for me. "You must all excuse my ward. He has been through quite the ordeal and must rest, something I well know." He touched my arm, his smile kind, lowering his voice. "Rest, child. You need not force yourself to face this all at once. Take your cousin with you."

"Thank you," I whispered, leaning in to kiss his cheek as I had as a child, then fleeing the banquet hall as quickly as I could.

I half forgot that I had a shadow until I stopped to open the door to Lord Rocaille's apartments and Ben's hand came to rest on my shoulder.

"You didn't have to leave," I said, eyes burning as I turned to look up at him. "I'll be okay. You should go back and enjoy yourself, you should - "

Ben cut me off with a kiss, cupping my face with his broad hands, and I shivered as the sword-calluses on his fingers brushed my scars. For a moment I tensed, certain someone would see us, but everyone was at banquet. Gradually I let myself relax, and let Ben draw me back into Lord Rocaille's rooms, silent and dark.

"Do you still want me?" My whisper seemed to fill the room, and Ben sighed, lips pressing tenderly to the scars at the corner of my eye.

"Yes. But more than that... I want to comfort you." He nuzzled my skin, gentle and tender, but I couldn't help but tense again, knowing what his lips felt. His breath huffed against the damaged shell of my ear, helpless. "Will you tell me how, my dearest?"

I wanted it too, I realized. Him, of course, but more than just pleasure. I wanted to be able to give myself over to it entirely and stop thinking about my own shortcomings. I thought of the joy I'd felt when we'd first been reunited in Firenze, how my desire had burned so brightly for him that I'd goaded him into taking me in that hallway, rutting desperately, braced against the wall. It all seemed so gloriously uncomplicated.

Then I had a thought, and drew back. "Wait here," I said, finding and lighting a lamp, and then taking it into my room.

Our trunks had already been delivered in our absence, and it didn't take me long to find what I needed. The delicate golden mask of Hermes still fit my features like a glove, and I closed my eyes as I tied it into place, imagining that I was no different than I had been then, and felt a small measure of piece.

Picking up the lamp, I returned to the main room where my cousin waited, and my heart sank. Ben's immediate disapproval was obvious; what was worse was the sorrow in his eyes, the hurt. I swallowed down the lump in my throat and set the lamp aside, groping for the strings of my mask. "I'm sorry," I muttered. "It was a stupid idea. I just thought... it would be nice. To pretend like things are as they were that night."

Taking the mask from me, Ben set it aside, pressing his lips to my forehead, my hair, staying clear this time of my scars. "We can if you like," he said finally, his voice soft and low. "If it makes you happy, Daniel. But I... " he stopped, letting out a long breath, drawing back to meet my gaze. "Daniel. Do you trust me?"

"With my life," I murmured, and he gave a soft smile.

"Then... will you pray to Naamah with me? I... I need Her guidance, Daniel. I thought for so long that Cassiel's teachings were the way to being your perfect companion, but... I see now that it's so much more than that. Can you trust me to evoke her blessing for you?" 

There was such vulnerability in his eyes that I couldn't think to deny him. I nodded, and he relaxed more, leaning in to kiss me again. Then he took my hands and drew me into the bedroom.

I had a supply of incense still, used often when I needed to prepare for an assignation, or contemplate the end of one. I lit one on the window sill, then respectfully removed my boots, sinking to my knees and contemplating the red cherry of the burning incense in the darkness.

Ben sank down beside me, hand briefly squeezing my arm, and I felt a surge of guilt. _My perfect companion_ , he'd said. Had he really to the Cassilines for my sake? It troubled me, the thought that I had not given back to him as much as he'd tried to give to me. I focused again on the cherry of the incense, slowing my breathing, opening my heart. 

_Help me give back to him,_ I prayed silently. It took a little time, to clear away the insecurities and thoughts of the day. To focus on Ben, steadfast and true. _Let me be a vessel for your blessing despite my unworthiness,_ I prayed, heart aching. _If I can no longer perform the service I have dedicated myself for, I beg of you, at least let me serve those I love with pride...._

Beside me, Ben drew a deep, shuddering breath, turning into me, and as he reached up to cup my cheek I could feel the energy between us surge, bright with warmth.

"Your pride hurts you so much because you place too much value on that which matters not to Her," he said, soft and low and resonant. "Leave it on the altar of Her devotion and you will find peace."

"I'm trying," I whispered, pressing my face into his palm as I felt tears escape my eyes. "I know I have no reason for pride, I - "

" _No,_ " Ben stopped me with a word, then leaned closer, resting his forehead to mine, breath slow and deliberate. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm not used to... feeling her so strongly. I'm not very good at this."

I felt briefly envious that he could say such a thing when I so badly needed to feel the warmth of Her presence, and then felt worse for it. "You're doing fine," I whispered, touching his face. "... tell me what she wills for us."

Ben let out a slow breath, silent for a moment longer. Finally he drew back, and there was more surety in his gaze. "If you will, my love... I'd like to see one of your contracts. And I'd like for you to ask the palace staff to draw a bath. Is that alright?"

I nodded, taking him to the study and finding one easily in Lord Rocaille's files, leaving him with it as I went to call for a bath. I tried to ignore the way the two maids who came glanced at my face as they began to pump the water and light the brazier to heat it, but I had to leave before they were finished, too self-conscious to stay. When I returned to Ben I found him bent over a new piece of parchment, neatly copying out the words from the contract. "... what are you doing?"

Ben finished the last sentence and turned, gaze tentative, but hopeful. "I... need for you to be my patron, if you will. My first. I'm not asking for much, I know I can't command a virgin price and I have no practical training. But I learned the theory of Balm's canon at your side. I would like to give that to you. If... if you'll have me, Daniel."

For a moment I couldn't speak past the lump in my throat. I pressed my palm to his cheek just to ground myself, trembling as he turned his face to kiss it. Ben's lips were soft and worshipful, pressing soft kisses to my skin just as he had when we were young, when I'd first asked him to learn and explore Naamah's teachings with me.

"I should have paid your virgin price thrice over," I murmured, and Ben smiled, shaking his head.

There are many ways to serve Naamah, from the passionate to the profound. Some say that the canon of house Balm is the closest to that of her temples. From the way Ben looked at me now I could understand that.

He tugged me closer, and I didn't resist, letting him pull me down onto his lap. "This is sacred," he whispered as he kissed me, then pressed another to the corner of my mouth, then my cheek, beginning a slow, worshipful benediction with his lips. "This is sacred, and this, and this. Every part of you is sacred and pleasing unto Her. Your desire, your passion, your love. Your body. Will you give me the honor of sharing it with me tonight?"

"Yes," I whispered, and pulled away long enough to sign the contract.

It was a little strange, to turn myself completely over to his care when I was so used to serving my patrons. It made me think, a little, of that day in the temple of Shemesh, when Laurent and I had naught to do but try and distract each other from that terrible waiting. Except now I was truly the patron, and Ben set about caring for me with single minded focus.

His took me into the bathroom, undressing me with studious care, stripping away the barriers between us. It was a task that I was so used to undertaking with the intent to arouse, and I felt a little ashamed that I had for so long forgotten the teachings of my childhood. That we had such a large private bath was a luxury afforded Lord Rocaille's status - and injuries, most likely - and I let myself slowly relax under Ben's gentle ministrations, settling in the pool between his thighs and leaning back against his chest in the warm, pleasantly scented water. 

Ben nestled his face into my neck on the unmarred side of me, which helped me relax more, closing my eyes as his fingers slowly mapped every part of my body under the water. That too, was still whole, and I let myself go to his touch as he reverently administered to me, trailing slow kisses down my neck and along my shoulder. 

The purpose of the baths at Balm was to relax in the sweet-smelling water, to be cleansed, to become comfortable and known in the presence of the adept. But it was hard not to become aroused when my body remembered such pleasure at his hands, and by the time Ben's hands smoothed down my thighs I was already hard for him, aching for more touch. He shifted against me, the hardness of his cock pressing into the small of my back, and desire rushed hot through me. I needed to feel it, needed to know that my disfigurement had not affected his desire for me. "Ben, please...."

Ben's breath was hot against my skin as he slid a hand up my inner thigh, cupping my sack, stroking his fingers over the sensitive skin. He stroked back farther, gently rubbing over my hole as I groaned, then carefully pressing his fingers up into me to clean me there, too. "Daniel... I would have this be a proper assignation, if I may.... But I realize, as inexperienced as I am, I may not... last...."

I turned my head to find his lips. "You can have me in the bath. The oils will work fine. Please...."

Ben gave a low groan, licking into my mouth to taste me, fingers moving to curl around my cock. Then he pulled back. "Trust me," he murmured softly, and I let myself be pulled up to lay back on his chest, the thick girth of his cock between my thighs. "This is sacred," he breathed again as he began to stroke me, returning to the canon of Balm. His free hand stroked over my stomach and chest, toying with my nipples, pinching them until I was breathless and aching, squirming up into the slow stroke of his hand.

"This is sacred too," I murmured, reaching down to press his cock up into the V of my thighs, pressing them together around it. he groaned, hips pushing up against me, and the girth of his cock felt amazing, sliding over my sensitive skin and pressing into my sack.

"Like they day we were dedicated to Naamah together," he whispered.

 _A matched pair,_ I thought, and a soft sob escaped my lips because of it.

"Shh..." Ben shifted, running his free hand up the side of my neck, my cheek, fingers stroking gently over my scars. I tensed - I couldn't help it - but he gently urged my face to turn, finding my mouth, kisses soft and sweet. "You are sacred," he promised, soft and truthful. "You are pure, and beautiful, just as you were that day."

"I'm not," I whispered, and he gave a soft moan of dismay.

"You are in my eyes. You are in Her eyes. Trust me. Let me help you feel that way."

Our time in the bath didn't last long. Even with my insecurities - or perhaps because of them - I was strung tight as a bow, and the pleasure he inflicted on me made my body sing. The reassurance of his own desire was just as important, his lips hungrier on my skin as he thrust up between my thighs, and despite my insecurities it drew me back to how beautiful it had been between us that day when we were children, how joyful I'd been to give him that pleasure before we were parted. Before I could stop myself I was spilling in his fingers, sobbing out my pleasure, and Ben groaned, low and relieved, and followed.

Afterwards I gave myself over again to his care, letting him clean both of us, then helping me out of the bath, drying me with the same gentle care as he'd undressed me with. Taking me into my bedroom, he drew back the bedcovers and spread out another sheet, turning the lamp down to a low, golden glow as I stretched out on my stomach. Then he straddled my hips and went to work, anointing my skin with the sweet-smelling massage oil, working his fingers into my shoulders and back, soothing sore muscles, his fingers rubbing over the lines of my marque. Kisses followed, his lips reverent against my marque as his fingers kneaded my low back and buttocks, and even having spent myself in the bath, I couldn't help but begin to feel the warmth of desire as he slowly worked down my thighs, shifting off of me to work on my calves, even rubbing into the soles of my feet.

A true dedication to Naamah through massage takes time, and Ben seemed conscientiously determined to complete it. I squirmed as his hands rubbed back up the back of my thighs, growing more aroused, my cock trapped heavy and hard against the bed. "Ben...."

His lips pressed to my thigh with a low moan, kissing up one side of my ass as he rubbed oil slick thumbs down the crack. I gave a soft sob as his thumbs finally rubbed over my hole, squirming, craving more. "Please..."

"Soon," he promised, working one into me, slow and slick and deep as his other hand massaged my ass. He kissed wetly over the small of my back. "So beautiful," he murmured, "so sacred." Then I felt his hands clench each cheek, pulling them apart so that he could press a wet kiss to my hole.

I sobbed at the pleasure of it, trembling under him as he began to take me apart with his lips and tongue, caressing and teasing my nerve endings, licking me open in slow thrusts. Though I knew the theory of this, had performed it on occasion, none of my patrons had ever had the desire, and I rarely had the patience for it with John. Now, though, I gave myself over to it entirely. Unschooled as he was, his care and dedication to the task were unmatched and soon I was sobbing with the need for more sensation, writhing under him on the bed as he groaned against me, fucking me with the wet heat of his tongue.

"More," I sobbed, needy and aching. "Please, Ben. Please take me, I'm good, please...."

"Soon," he murmured, and drew back completely. "Turn over, my dearest."

I did, turning my face to the side, angling it away from the lamplight. "I don't need the rest of the massage...."

"You do," he said softly, kneeling over my thighs and reaching up to cup my face in his hands, turning it back into the light, then leaning down to bestow soft, sweet kisses over my skin. "You're sacred unto her," he whispered again. "You're beautiful, Daniel, and you have nothing to fear."

"I have much to fear," I breathed before I could stop myself, breath catching in my throat.

Ben drew back to look down on me, the pupils of his blue eyes wide in the lamplight, loving and sorrowful. "Will you unburden yourself to me? Will you let this be part of your healing?"

I closed my eyes, letting out a soft sigh as he brought our hips together, letting my cock press into the warmth of his stomach. I didn't want to, but I'd promised to trust him, and I knew as well as he that it was needed. It would not be a successful assignation for Balm house if he could not draw my troubles and soothe them, and I could not bring myself to make it hard on him. And it felt good, being close to him, naked and aroused. I felt safe.

"I fear baselessly that John will change his mind," I whispered finally. "I know that he loves me. I believe him when he says that my scars are beautiful for their origin, that this sign of my devotion makes me more beautiful to him. I know that in time my heart will believe what my head does. It's just... hard, in the meantime, when I want so badly to still be actually beautiful for him."

Ben's lips pressed to my eyelids, the slow rock of his hips against mine a gentle, soothing pleasure. "Is it really him that you're worried about?"

I sighed, turning my face up into his kisses, and thought about Naamah's blessing. _Pride in what matters not to her_. Elua, it was so hard! "... no. It's the court. I just... I'm so used to being beautiful, being wanted, and now... I'm afraid that they will look at me in disgust, or pity. I thought to make myself the prince of the night court, with my learning in all thirteen houses. I thought it would be glorious for John to have such a consort. And now... now they'll see only his charity for a failed whore, and I..." I bit back a sob. "I'm not even your match anymore!"

Ben gave a soft, sorrowful moan, his lips finding mine, kissing me softly as I cried, my tears hot against the new-healed scars. Then he drew back, catching my hands. "Come here with me," he murmured, turning up the lamp. Then he drew me over to the mirror on the wall, pulling me against the side of his body, then looking towards the glass. "Will you tell me what you see?"

I blotted my tears with the back of my hand, trying to catch my breath and look.

Standing together, I was surprised to realize that Ben had at least two inches of height on me. His body was toned, built from years of training and practice. His cock, of course, was thicker, and a little longer, a true blessing in a lover. An angry red scar ran over his thigh, and another on his bicep - injuries he'd gotten in the fight to rescue John, which I guiltily realized I hadn't asked after. I stroked my fingers over the one on his arm. "I'm sorry," I murmured, but he shook his head and smiled.

"That's not what I meant you to see," he said, pressing a kiss to the scar at my temple. "I mean that we aren't as we were at thirteen. We haven't been the same since we left House Balm. I have scars and sword calluses, I'm built like a fighter, not a lover. Your body is toned and lithe and beautiful, like a courtier. But we're still brothers, Daniel. Our eyes are the same sky, our hair grew from the same sheath of wheat. The line of our nose, the strange, deep bow to our lips that makes us so striking...." He pulled me closer, claiming my lips, his voice growing low and throaty with want. "We're not the same, but we're still matched," he insisted, low and certain, fingertips gently stroking over my scars. "And if you help me, when you are Royal Consort we will give your lover, our King, the showing we were made for. The most glorious, passionate showing that has ever been shown in all the thirteen houses. And it will be so beautiful, Daniel. Can't you feel how Naamah smiles at the thought of it?"

I closed my eyes, and was finally able to open myself to it - the warmth, the approval that had been so hard for me to feel when I was away from Terre D'Ange. He spoke the truth. Of course he spoke truth. She was still pleased with me. There was still service I could give. With that assurance thrumming through me, I couldn't help but melt into him, wrapping my arms up around his neck and molding myself against the warmth of his body, finding his lips with my own.

"Please make love to me," I whispered. "Please help me find healing in this act of benediction."

"It will be a gift to do so," he murmured, picking me up near effortlessly and carrying me back to the bed.

It was easier to be patient as he prepared me, closing my eyes and giving myself over to the escalating sensation as he fucked me slowly with two fingers, then three. When he finally moved between my thighs I was more than ready; now the thick head of his cock breached me with only a moment's resistance, my body ready, eager for his girth. It felt amazing to be slowly filled by him, each gentle rock pushing deeper until he was finally fully seated inside me, the exquisite feeling of fullness somehow exalting. Godly.

"Daniel. Look at me." Ben's voice was low and insistent, holding still until I managed to open my eyes and do as he asked. He smiled, catching hold of both of my hands and twining our fingers together, pressing them into the pillows on either side of my head. Then he began to rock in me, ever so slow and gradual, eyes holding mine. "Do you see how beautiful you are to me?" he whispered, and I could. Ben looked at me now the way he had since we were children, like I was the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Yes," I whispered, shivering at the words, feeling my body clench down around his cock, the moment of intensity making me moan. "Oh yes...."

Ben smiled, the slow, small rocks of his hips growing, drawing my pleasure higher. "Do you see how beautiful you are to Her?" he whispered, and dropped his lips to find mine. "Do you feel the pleasure she gifts us with? How she thanks you for your service and devotion? This is sacred and pure, my love, and you deserve it. All the love in the world, all the desire and passion...."

I could, Naamah's approval warm and overwhelming, mixing with my pleasure, bringing me joy. I couldn't help but sob with it, breath catching in tears and pleasure both, and Ben's lips worshipped my skin, kissing the tracks of my tears as he moved in me. I pulled my thighs higher against his side, and he groaned, letting go of one hand to wrap an arm under my hips, pulling them higher. It let him press deeper still, the thick girth of his cock pushing shocks of pleasure through me with each thrust, and I reveled in it, sobbing out the stress of my fear and the pleasure of our union together and unrestrainedly with each breath.

"My dearest," Ben murmured against my ear, husky and breathless, lips gentle against my scars. "My love, my match... my beautiful brother... my Daniel...!"

"Always," I gasped, and felt every word of it, pulsing through me with the pleasure of his cock. Waves of sensation built, gradual but ever stronger, beautiful and pure, until I was shuddering, aching with the need to come. Still, part of me never wanted to end. I clung to the agony of the precipice of climax, fingers clenched tight on Ben's, digging into his shoulder as we moved together.

"Please," Ben gasped, the rock of his hips growing harder, helpless and stuttered, "will you give me your release? Gods, Daniel, I can't - "

"Please spill in me," I gasped, and with the last few desperate bucks of his hips let go, pleasure crashing around us and pulling us under together, sweet and overwhelming and perfect.

And sacred. All is sacred.

He whispered as much as we caught our breath, smiling with overwhelming happiness as he kissed me. I felt my heart ache with it, more tears escaping my eyes, stroking my fingers through his hair. I wondered for the first time how it could be that the Blessed Elua could give me such love for him when he'd already gifted me such love for John, and gave silent praise to him for it.

"We are sacred, my brother," I whispered, feeling my last bit of stress and insecurity melt away at the admitting. For how could Naamah have blessed us with such a union if we were not?

Ben smiled as he kissed me, achingly sweet. "Rest and be healed, little brother," he whispered, and, languid and at peace, I fell into a deep and restful slumber in his arms.

~~~


	17. Chapter 17

"Balm House doesn't know how much it suffers for your loss," I murmured the next day, after Ben and I had greeted the sun with a slow, languid lovemaking. I trailed my fingers along his cheek, feeling fond and happy, and blessedly at peace. "Did you enjoy Her Service?"

"So much," Ben replied, voice low and warm. "So very much. Thank you, my dearest."

Somehow, in the act of opening myself up to him, Naamah had answered my prayer as well, allowed me to give back to my sweet cousin. Our lovemaking had been beautiful, and far more worthy of Her than the few frantic fumbles we'd had in Fireze. Truly serving seemed to have opened up something wonderful in Ben, a quiet warmth and confidence that somehow made him more beautiful than ever before.

"Thank you for the gift you have given me," I murmured back, sealing my thanks with a kiss, slow and sweet, and for a long moment just revelled in our closeness. Eventually I drew back. "Will you continue to make your marque, now that you have had your first contract?"

Ben let out a long breath, nuzzling slow kisses to the tips of my fingers as he thought. "I'm not sure yet," he admitted, eyebrows knitting slightly. "I do feel very much like I need to make my marque, but it is permitted for one who is sworn to Naamah to earn it in any way they see it fit, if they are..." he stopped short.

"Unfit for service," I replied, finding it easier to say. I'd read about when the edicts had changed, in part due to the efforts of Phedre no Delaunay de Montreve, who had been inspired by a talented Atelier from Eglantine house that had split her lip shortly before her debut. I hadn't thought about it before, and felt a touch of shame for not doing so when it affected my dear cousin - my brother - so much. "Can you earn your marque in Cassiel's service?"

"I owe the order five years of service, which it seems our king has seemed fit to contract. They won't deny him when it so neatly solves the problem of what to do with me." He gave a wry smile. "Anything I earn in private commission can go towards my marque. I suppose that would be my whole fee, if I were to serve."

I smiled, wishing I'd insisted on paying him more. But my savings were enough that I could well afford a generous patron gift. "So you will serve."

"I've thought a lot about it on our trip home, how best to serve the gods I have sworn myself to." Ben admitted. "I'm not sure I've fully decided. But... I wanted to serve you. And... that showing our King has requested... if it pleases you, I will do that."

"It would please me very much," I replied, leaning in to kiss him. Then I took a chance. "What about Laurent?"

Ben shook his head, but his smile seemed wistful. "My assignment was to protect him through our journey to Firenze. That's over now."

"It doesn't have to end there, though," I said, stroking his cheek. "And perhaps it doesn't have to be just about protection?"

Ben's brows knit together sightly. "What else would it be about?"

I arched my eyebrows pointedly.

After a moment of incomprehension, Ben flushed dark, giving a tight, breathless laugh. "Don't tease, dearest," he managed, drawing away and sitting up. "In any case, we should get up now if we're to catch breakfast before your appointment."

"I'm not teasing." I got up, pouring water into the wash basin to remove the oils and other traces last night's passion from my skin. "You should invite him to contract you."

Another incredulous laugh. "Laurent wouldn't want me. What would he need me for? Everyone wants him - he can have anyone he wants right now, especially given that he is in the King's favor. Why on Elua's green earth would he want me?"

I finished running the wet cloth over my body and wrung it out, then brought it over to him. "I can't help but notice that you haven't said anything about not wanting _him_ ," I said softly, and Ben flushed darker.

"I... perhaps," he whispered, and I pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.

"Well, you'll just have to ask him if you want to know what he wants," I said. Then, feeling a sudden boldness, I added, "Or if you won't ask him, ask Naamah."

Then I left him to contemplate my words, and went to find my clothes.

Through letters I'd already arranged an appointment with Alais no Eglantine, eager for my marque to be finished. Though I felt more at peace with myself than I had the day before, it was still a relief to leave the palace, and excitement sat warm in the pit of my stomach as we traveled to her house. One of her staff showed us in, and I was surprised when it was not she, but Laurent who met us in the main room.

"Lar!" I embraced him gladly, pressing a kiss of greeting to his cheek. "You didn't return to Eglantine?"

"Not yet," he replied. "I'm thinking I may not. It's not the same without May, and I don't really need the house to provide my assignations at the moment. Plus, I like being here with my mother." He glanced towards her workroom. "Even if she asks too many questions."

In truth, I was a little envious of his relationship with Alais; Ben and I had not seen much of our mothers since leaving Cereus, and two years ago they'd both retired to the estate of a Siovalese widower that one of them had married. "Well, I'm glad you're here. You can keep Ben company while my marque is finished."

"I... was actually hoping you might let me watch?" Ben said softly, and I thought suddenly of our conversations of marques and smiled.

"You both may, if you like," I told them, and let Laurent take us to Alais' studio.

She and her assistant were just finishing setting up, and Alais rose when we entered, giving me a warm smile. "Welcome home, child," she said. She pressed a kiss to my cheek under my scars without lingering, and I felt a soft wave of relief. "Laurent tells me you've had quite the adventure."

"I suppose that's one way of putting it. Alais, this is my cousin - "

"Ben. Yes, I've heard." She smiled, cheeks dimpling very much like her son's. "It's very nice to meet you. Daniel, will he be staying with us for your session today?"

"If you don't mind. And Laurent may, also."

Alais directed her assistant to bring in two more chairs, and I stripped down behind the screen she'd set up to the side of her work area and pulled on a silk robe, laying down on the marquist's table before letting her help me off with it. I turned my injured cheek up out of habit - it was still tender - and saw Alais's eyes move to it as she stroked the hair off the back of my neck. "I'll need you to move forward later, dear, I'll need your neck straight for the finial. I have a rest for your face to go into that we'll attach to the table. Will you be alright?"

I nodded. "I believe so. Thank you."

"And you still wish for the Cereus flower for your finial?" She asked carefully, and I paused, considering it.

Cereus. _All Loveliness Fades._

Leave your pride on the altar of Her devotion....

I took a deep breath, and nodded. It seemed more appropriate now than ever before, and still more appropriate than painful. "Yes, I do."

"Alright." She moved her easel with my marque design in front of the table where she could see it, taking a fine brush and some watered ink to begin to sketch the remainder of the design onto my skin. When she reached the back of my neck I shifted to let my forehead rest on the padded table, but she paused. "Daniel, I'd like to make a small adjustment to the design that I think would be appropriate. Will you trust me?"

I didn't have to think about it. "I trust you to convey my tribute to Naamah in the way that will best please her."

"Good," she said, and continued.

I'd always enjoyed my sessions with Alais, and today was no exception. The process of being limned was not excruciating - after Firenze, I rather thought I was more equipped to handle it - but after a time even the thrall of Naamah's approval wore off. It was good to talk to her as a distraction while her needles tapped the ink into my skin, and Alais was easy to talk to. Sometimes I thought she might know almost as much about my life as John and Lord Rocaille. Today she spoke with all of us though, and I was surprised to find that even Ben opened up to her as the session went on, telling the tale of our dedication to Naamah, and how he'd gone to train with the Cassilines.

"Do you think Naamah would expect him to complete his marque still?" I asked, and Alais gave a contemplative hum.

"I think that since you were dedicated, you would have every right to complete it if you wanted," she said. "Marques do not need to be paid through Her service. But I think in the end, that would be up to yourself and Naamah, dear. Have you spoken to a priest or priestess?"

Ben shook his head. "I think I'd like one, if you don't believe that it would offend."

"If you don't believe that it would offend your order, it will not offend Naamah," Alais said with a surety, looking up from my back. "If you'd like, we can speak about a design when I'm finished with Daniel today?"

When Ben had mentioned staying, I'd rather hoped the conversation would lead to this. "I'd be very grateful," he said, and I smiled unseen.

It took several hours to finish, enough that we had to stop part way for lunch, a wholesome stew and bread finished with apple preserves and cream to keep my energy up. Alais wouldn't let me see, but Ben and Laurent smiled when they looked at me, and I felt a soft shiver of excitement in anticipation of seeing the final work.

Finally Alais finished, carefully wiping the stray ink from my skin with a damp cloth, then spreading a light coating of salve over the newly limned skin that would help with healing. Then she had her assistant bring in a standing mirror that was covered with a cloth, placing it to face the half-length mirror on the wall and bringing me to stand between them.

"Are you ready to see it?" she asked, and I nodded, letting the robe fall from my mid-back to hang off my elbows, draping below my ass. Alais smiled, and pulled the cloth from the mirror behind me.

I drew in a soft breath, my heart stopping. If I had thought the progress of my marque was beautiful, it was nothing compared to seeing the finished ink, covering my spine from the crack of my ass to the nape of my neck. The Cereus flower still formed my finial, its bell-like center surrounded by thin, delicate petals. But below that, a dove took wing from the wealth of flowers, her wings unfurled and extending up over the top of my shoulders as she took to the sky.

Against my eardrums I heard the flutter of Her wings, and was so overwhelmed by the warmth of her presence that I could hardly breathe.

"Do you like it?" Alais said softly, a hint of nervousness in her voice, and I turned, choking back a soft sob as I threw my arms around her shoulders, pressing a trembling kiss to her cheek.

"It's perfect," I whispered. "Thank you."

"Then it was my pleasure," she murmured, patting my back, the touch on my bare skin reminding me suddenly that I was essentially naked. 

I pulled back, feeling my cheeks heat as I quickly pulled the robe around me. "Elua, forgive me! I didn't mean - ah - I'll go dress."

Alais laughed, eyes crinkling. "It's all right, dear. It's been quite some time since I've been embraced like that by such a beautiful naked man. Since Laurent's father, to be precise."

"Oh Gods, Mom, stop!"

"Well, would you rather I say differently, dear?"

I laughed, changing back into my clothes and suddenly realizing that I would very much miss our sessions. Perhaps Laurent would allow me to visit. Or perhaps I could on occasion accompany Ben.

Finally dressed again, I took the two purses I'd brought with me, pressing one into Alais' hand and setting the other down on the table. "For today's work. And for however much it will buy for the start of Ben's." I glanced to my cousin, feeling another wave of fondness as I remembered our night. "I owe him a patron-gift."

If Alais thought it strange she showed no reaction, only smiling, inclining her head to me. "Thank you for allowing me to make your marque, Daniel no Rocaille. It has been an honor. I will hold the remainder until Ben's first session. Will you stay and talk with me for a time, Ben? Daniel will be safe with Laurent in the house."

"Of course. Thank you, my lady."

"It really is beautiful," Laurent remarked as we wandered out into the house, settling in the parlour where he poured me a small glass of cordial to sip, which I appreciated... after so long on the marquist's bed, I felt exhausted and drained. "I'm a little jealous to only bear the marque of Eglantine."

"Your mother made it extraordinary for you," I assured him with a smile. "It's very beautiful, Lar. And certainly fitting of the success you're finding now."

"It should be yours," he said frankly, his smile fading. "The word should know how extraordinary you are. It's not fair."

I smiled, shaking my head, thinking on how I'd loved Piers and feeling my heart twist in sorrow. "In truth, I'm not sure I could share my talents with the whole world. Perhaps there is more of House Heliotrope in me than I imagined."

Laurent gave a hum of agreement, leaning back in his chair. "Still, if the royal consort and his majesty were to ever desire some additional... entertainment, I would be more than pleased to serve."

"You just don't want to lose your spot as His Majesty's favorite," I teased, and Lar laughed, eyes twinkling.

"Maybe I just want the chance to have a little Balm in me again," he quipped back, smirking.

I thought on my night with Ben and felt a warm wave of contentment. Then I leaned across the space between the couches we sat on, taking his hand. "My cousin is of mixed thoughts about entering Naamah's service. But if you asked him, he would agree."

Laurent flushed immediately, nearly as red as his hair. "I - you don't - he - "

"Ask him," I murmured again, rubbing the center of his palm with his hand. "Trust me, Laurent. Or if you won't... ask Naamah. You'll see."

"Master Laurent?" The voice of Alais' head of household saved him from having to reply. "His Lordship Niels de Mereliot is here with a guest to see your mother."

"Show him in, and ask the kitchen to bring in refreshments, please," Laurent said, giving a sigh of relief and rising to meet him.

I rose as well, feeling a shiver of worry at the thought of seeing my old patron - the kind of worry I'd hoped to have left behind, after my night with Ben. But when Niels de Mereliot swept in - with May, of all people, on his arm - his eyes lit up, and he abandoned May to pull me into a kiss of greeting. "Daniel! So good to see you home again. I'm sorry I didn't manage to catch you last night, I'd hoped for a dance. I didn't realize you were a patron of Alais'?"

For a brief moment I was confused. "Patron, my lord?"

"Her art," he repeated with a smile.

"Ah - of course." I felt my face heat. "Yes, I - I've been very lucky to have her as my marquist."

"Of course! I should have recognized her hand in it. I think one is very lucky to have Alais for anything," Niels agreed, blue eyes twinkling. "She's allowing me to commission a painting for my new lady wife's bedchamber, one that May has very graciously agreed to pose for." He stepped closer to me again, lowering his voice. "Perhaps I shall add to your marque by contracting you to pose for one for my own, if you are amiable. As beautiful as May is, she is far more to Anna's taste than mine."

"Thank Elua," May replied with a teasing smile. "I don't think I could last through the both of you fawning over me. Bad enough you're having an erotic painting done for her. You'll agree, won't you, Daniel? It would make a gorgeous series."

I couldn't speak, my mouth going dry as I stared at them both. "M-my lord... surely you jest...."

Niels looked back at me, genuinely puzzled. "Why would I jest?"

"I - " I started, the words catching in my throat.

"Daniel's marque is finished today," Laurent saved me smoothly, and Niels looked upon me with genuine dismay.

"Finished already? Oh.... Well, then... I offer my congratulations. I don't suppose you perhaps plan to stay in the service? I had hoped...."

There was no guile in his eyes, no pity. Exhausted as I was, tears sprang to mine.

Niels looked more concerned. "Forgive me, Daniel, I didn't mean to offend...."

"I didn't think you'd want me," I whispered, trying and failing to blink back my tears, and Niels' expression softened.

"You thought wrong," he said quietly, and reached up to cup my face, thumb lightly caressing along the bottom of my scars. "And I don't presume to know who your other patrons have been, but I daresay I'm not the only one who will say that. And I hope you will consent to see me again while I'm here in the city. Painting or no painting."

I swallowed hard to clear the lump in my throat, suddenly wanting it very much. "I - there's someone I'll need to ask...."

"I don't think he'll mind, Daniel," Laurent said softly, and I thought back to what John had said in the carriage when I'd told him about Ben, and smiled, feeling another rush of love for him.

"Send a request to Lord Rocaille," I murmured, looking up at Niels through my eyelashes, seeing him smile. "And... thank you. Very much."

Niels gave a pleased hum, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my cheek. "Darling, the pleasure is entirely mine."

~~~

I recounted to Ben what had happened on the way back to the palace - exhausted as I was, tears came easily, but they felt good. Ben held me, stroking my low back, and when we returned bundled me off to bed for a nap, which I could scarcely refuse.

"Good evening, my dear." I found Lord Rocaille in his study when I awoke, sitting over some correspondence. "Did your appointment go well?"

I nodded, stifling a yawn. "Very well, thank you. Just long. But my marque is made. Will you acknowledge it, my lord?"

"Of course," Lord Rocaille replied, turning his chair towards me. "Show me your marque, servant of Naamah."

I eased my breeches down around my hips before unbuttoning my shirt, wanting him to get the full effect at once. I gave Ben a smile as he joined us, then pulled my shirt off, bowing my head and displaying my marque. 

Behind me, Lord Rocaille gave a low, approving hum. "Alais no Eglantine has truly outdone herself. It's beautiful, and truly fitting. I recognize your marque as complete, Daniel no Rocaille. Your debt to Naamah is paid, and you are a free D'Angeline."

It was unexpectedly, extraordinarily good to hear, and had I not just had a nap I might have cried again. "Thank you my lord," I replied, hearing my voice burr, and Lord Rocaille smile.

"Would you like to continue in her service?" he asked softly, and I paused, considering it again.

"There were times in Firenze when I thought I couldn't wait to be rid of it," I said slowly, looking down at the floor. "And other times, like when Piers arrived, that I was so happy to be serving. Yesterday...." I thought of Niels de Mereliot. Did I truly want to accept his assignation, or was it merely the reassurance of my own value I was searching for?

But I'd always enjoyed my time with Niels, very much. Like most of my repeat patrons, I couldn't deny a genuine affection and love. "I think... yesterday I may have said no, but... now I'd like to take it one day at a time, if that's alright? I... I may have an offer coming in from Niels de Mereliot...."

Was it my imagination, or did Lord Rocaile's smile widen ever-so-slightly? "Then I will be happy to continue to arrange your contracts whenever you like, my dear. Speaking of, I had Mr. Reese witness the one that was left on my desk last night." His eyes slid to Ben. "Should I expect any more?"

My cousin flushed dark. "Ah - I'm not... perhaps?" 

He gave a small, curt nod. "I am happy to accommodate as long as it does not interfere with what John has contracted you for."

"Never, my lord," Ben swore fervently.

"Then we are in agreement." Lord Rocaille picked up a bundle of parchment. "Now, Daniel...."

I'd turned to give Ben a warm smile, and looked back to Lord Rocaille quickly. "My lord?"

"Since you are no longer indebted to Naamah, I believe it's time we sort this out." He offered me the bundle. "Papers of investiture, deeding your father's title and estate to you. If you wish in time to recognize your cousin as having additional claim when he is no longer indentured, that is up to you."

I stared at him in shock for a long moment. "But I'm not..." I looked back to Ben. "Our father, did you ever....?"

He shrugged. "I inquired, when I joined the order. There's a certain benefits to be had, by a family who dedicates a son. Our mothers would only say that he was a good man and had died, and they could not break the sanctity of their contracts." Ben smiled. "I do not think they or anyone would challenge the word of Lord Rocaille in this."

"There are contracts in Cereus house, enough that my claim could not be disputed in a court of law," Lord Rocaille said gently, and I looked at him in surprise. "Beyond that, we may never ascertain the truth. But what will not change is this; you are my heir, child, and I wish you acknowledged as a peer of the realm. Nathan's estates are mine to do with as I see fit. And I'm certain that he would have approved very much of you, my dear. So you will be the Comte de Corbeau, if it suits you."

My throat went dry. "My lord, I...."

"The estate includes some lands and small baronies by the sea in Siovale, managed by a steward Nathan and I both trusted. They turn a modest income," Lord Rocaille continued, each word seeming more and more surreal. "I did not see fit to combine his assets with my other holdings when Nathan died, though I must admit that his library was a temptation." He gave a slight smile. "There will be some additional papers we will sign to give you access to the accounts. And when you are ready we can travel there together and meet the lords of your lands. Assuming my nephew ever allows you to leave his side." His gaze was warm and hopeful as he looked up at me, the papers still extended. "Will you accept?"

I glanced back to Ben, finding my brother's smile so full of pride and love that it made my heart painfully skip a beat. Then I looked back to Lord Rocaille, who looked upon me in forced calm with an undertone of anxiousness.

"He may cry if you don't accept," Reese noted dryly, and I gave a breathless laugh as Lord Rocaille cast him an adoring glare.

"Then I suppose I must not disappoint my lord," I heard myself answer distantly, but as I took the papers from him, I sank to my knees, catching his hand with my other and pressing a kiss to the back, pressing it to my cheek. "Your kindness and generosity is without measure, my lord. It always has been. If there is anything I can do to repay it - "

"Every day I count myself fortunate that the Gods saw fit to send you to me, child of my heart," Lord Rocaille replied softly, fingers squeezing mine. "There is no debt between us."

By then I was weeping, my heart too full to hold it back any longer. I kissed his hand again, wet where my tears had fallen against his skin. "Will you permit me to still use your name, my lord?"

Lord Rocaille's hand squeezed mine again, trembling, his voice catching with emotion when he spoke. "Child, I would be honored."

~~~

Thus did it come to pass that I attended the wedding of Jonathan de la Courcel and Sameen de Medici, Regent of Terre d'Ange and grand lady of the Caerdicca Unitas, as the Comte Daniel no Rocaille de Corbeau.

It was the name and title I had signed when I'd contracted to Niels de Mereliot, and he'd greeted me as such with adoring approval. Our assignation had been passionate and uncomplicated, and an important and badly-needed step in my healing.

The other step I'd completed the day before the wedding. I'd taken the remainder of Mateo degli Albizzi's money to the main temple of Elua, along with an amount I'd withdrawn from my accounts - the amount of the first patron gift of Piers Eltoin, which had been, as promised, thrice what he should have given me on the day he'd paid my virgin-price. Then I'd laid it all down in offering to the Blessed Elua, and prayed long, asking Elua to forgive the offenses I'd done, not only against Piers but to all I had taken as patrons under the guise of service when I had in truth sought to use our time together to further Lord Rocaille's - and my - goals.

A sense of peace infused me, so calming that I wept with it. In time I felt a hand on my hair, and looked up to find one of the temple priests smiling down at me, his voice low and resonant.

"The purpose that Blessed Elua has for you will be a long one," he said, and must have seen my eyes widen, for he smiled. "But you have suffered and sacrificed all he will ask you for. You are forgiven the consequences of doing the Gods' will. Be satisfied in the knowledge that you have pleased them, and that as long as you honor the commitments you have made to them and others you will be blessed with peace and love in your life."

"Thank you," I whispered, and wept again as I kissed his hand.

I felt the same relief and release when I watched John kiss his new bride in the gardens of the palace, as hundreds of D'Angeline's cheered. Their kiss was brief but sweet, and there was begrudging affection in Sameen's smile. The peers of the realm, more or less, approved of the union. It had helped that the Lady de Morhban had returned to court after so many years abroad, both loudly supporting her and thoroughly charming the peerage with a razor-sharp wit people attributed to the blood of Kushiel in her veins. The mood was joyous and merry as we banqueted that night, the wine plentiful. Seated at the long high table with Ben and Lord Rocaille on either side, I could see John in the center, and felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

After the sweets were served, the Queen's Poet, one Michel Joue, rose, and in his fluid, musical voice related the first version of what would later be called the Sacrifice of the Princess Roxanne. It was strange to hear the truth I'd strived for since I was thirteen relaid to the realm as if an important tale in history, as legendary as those told of Queen Ysandre of old. But it was a truth the land would remember; that we had a Princess who had served her country with love, and died due to the treachery and greed of evil men.

And then he began to tell the tale of her avenging, and I found myself frozen in my seat.

Later I'd reflect that he must have worked very closely with Lord Rocaille, to uncover so much detail and present it in the best way. For Lord Rocaille there was respect - the Princess's near-brother, assuming the Montrèvan Oath that had been sworn by his dead consort to protect her children. For John there was honor - a child seeking justice for the safety and good of his country, and so that he might follow the precept of the Blessed Elua. For Piers there was forgiveness, his betrayal redeemed by his sacrifice.

His verse praised Sameen, so much that I thought the Lady de Morhban must have had a hand in it, for a Queen that could have been seen as surly and standoffish became mysterious and capable, capturing their King's heart with her fierce determination to avenge her fallen husband and end the cycle of feuding and violence that had plagued her family and the city of Firenze for generations.

And I...

Michel Joue named me both a hero and peer of the realm that night, as surely as the Ysandrine Cycle venerated the legendary courtesan and _anguisette_ , Phedre no Delauney de Montreve. He named me a scholar of all thirteen houses of the Night Court, dedicated to the gods and beloved by the King, serving him with the same dedication and sacrifice that Naamah had once given the Blessed Elua when she lay with strangers so that he could eat. With Naamah's grace and Shemhazai's wisdom, I had risked everything in a strange land amongst enemies of Terre D'Ange to find the key to serving justice for Princess Roxanne, and saved the life of the King.

The Queen's Poet wove his words with grace and beauty, praising the gods, praising those who followed the precept of Blessed Elua, and wrapping the whole tale as a portent for times of great happiness and prosperity in Terre D'Ange. By the end there was nary a dry eye in the house, and the peers applauded him wildly for his work.

I sat speechless, fingers pressed to my lips, overwhelmed past speech and only grounded from the squeeze of Ben's hand on my arm. Too easily I could see people's eyes on me, see the approval and desire in them. To have all of my secrets laid bare ought to have felt invasive, but it had been done with such skill and honor that all I felt was a deep sense of both humility and pride at once, strange in their coexistence.

"Do you approve?" Lord Rocaille asked quietly, a hand on my shoulder, and I nodded, tearful and glad.

The praise finally ceased when Queen Evangeline rose, voice still strong despite her frailty, giving the royal approval, speaking words of approval for the marriage, for the allies we had gained, for the strength it would bring our two countries. I expected John to speak next, but saw him and Sameen in a heated, whispered conversation from which Sameen finally stood, raising a goblet.

"I am not a woman of many words, but thank you for your acceptance," she said, her D'Angeline accented in the slightly musical way that Caerdicci tended to give. "My family is honored, and in your debt. Praise be to your gods for all they have given us. And praise to my Husband, the King, who is of many words and is going to use them now to acknowledge that which I will not see hidden this day." She thrust her goblet skyward, which the peers of the realm mirrored with slight confusion, then drank deeply and sat down again, casting a pointed look to John.

He rose, chuckling as he shook his head, then favoring the assemblage with a smile and all of his beautiful, innate charm. "For all that has happened I am exceedingly grateful. For all of your support for my appointment as Regent and in this wedding. For the support of her Highness my grandmother, and for the support of the grand Medici family - " for this he repeated his words in fluid Caerdicci, bowing his head to Sameen's side of the table, " _May the golden light of Shemesh ever shine upon your bloodline, bringing peace and prosperity._ I will beg your forgiveness for what I am about to say - being cognizant of the differences in custom between our countries, I had intended to wait for a more appropriate time - "

"The appropriate time is now," Sameen said sharply, and John laughed again, cheeks colouring slightly, though his smile as he looked down at her was fond.

"As you can see, I dare not cross my lady wife on our wedding day. And I also dare not disrespect the precincts of Blessed Elua on such a day. So." 

He drew a slow breath, then turned towards our end of the table, meeting my gaze. "There were those of you who questioned when I did not follow tradition in taking a Royal Companion from the priests of Naamah in my youth. Today I will speak unto you the truth of the matter, and pray that you all, as well as the honorable order of Naamah, forgive me my necessary deception. In secret, I have always had one. A Royal Companion in the one person whose loyalty I could always trust without question. A man who has always listened to my deepest fears and desires and kept all my confidences, tolerated my whims and forgiven my weaknesses. A man who has sacrificed more than I can ever repay, who has saved my life and given me my Queen. A man for whom the Blessed Elua has granted me the glory and blessing of the most exquisite and godly love."

John's voice grew thick with emotion as he spoke, burring on the last words, and he stopped to swallow, eyes bright as they held mine. My heart ached with love for him, throat tight, and at once I felt both my deep and boundless love for him and the awe I'd felt that first day I'd met him, overwhelmed by the dazzling beauty of his green eyes, his charm and grace.

"Today I will give thanks to Blessed Elua that I might follow his precept twice over," John continued, low but strong, his voice filling the room. "Both in marriage to my Queen, and in recognition of my Royal Companion - the ward of my dear uncle, the Comte Daniel no Rocaille de Corbeau, who I will name Consort, and in one months time swear vows to the Blessed Elua with him to that end." He raised his glass to the room. " _Love as thou wilt,_ " he finished simply, drinking as the room echoed his toast. Then he stepped away from his seat to draw me from mine.

For a brief moment before he kissed me I worried about public opinion, and my scars, pinkly visible. Then John kissed me, and all I could think of was him. I felt the warmth and approval of Elua and Naamah both, flaring bright between us as I gave myself over to him, sliding my arms up around his neck and arching into him. The noise I could hear from peers of the realm was undoubtedly approving as they watched the King of Terre D'Ange kiss me with far more passion than he'd kissed his Queen, and I realized I never should have doubted. We are, in the end, D'Angeline, driven by such grand displays of love over all else.

"Thank you," John whispered as he drew back, eyes shining. "Are you pleased?"

I nodded, touching his cheek. "Immeasurably. Now return to your wife, my King."

"And when this is eventually all over with you will return to my chambers tonight?" he murmured hopefully. Though I laughed softly, I well understood and shared the desire in his request. I nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek and sending him back to Sameen.

"I dare say you are about to become in very high demand," Lord Rocaille leaned closer to me to remark under his breath with a wry smile. "I would council you to be choosy, but I know you will be."

The idea thrilled me a little, because I knew Lord Rocaille was correct. I relished the opportunity of being able to select patrons according to who and what interested me. Even more I relished the knowledge that I would rarely want to, the thought of living openly at John's side more beautiful and appealing than ever before.

There would still be things to tackle, before we could have our happily ever after. There always would be, for loving a King would never be simple. There were my estates to recognize, and my brother's love life to settle. But I had faith that all of that would happen in due time.

 _You will be blessed with peace and love in your life,_ the priest at the Temple of Elua had told me.

I was well ready for that.

~finish~


	18. Epilogue - Harold no Rocaille

"It's good to see you again, Lionel." I pressed a kiss of greeting to the cheek of Corbeau Manor's senechal; Lionel had always been a bit rough around the edges, but Nathan's talent of finding the most loyal of hearts in the strangest of places had never steered him wrong.

"It's been too long," Lionel agreed, nodding his head to Reese. "You been keeping Harold fed, Cassiline?"

"Always," Reese replied, warmth in his voice.

"Good. Because I couldn't - " and then he stopped, and from the look on his face, I knew what he was seeing.

At thirteen, Daniel had had enough of a passing resemblance to my departed husband that my deception seemed plausible to those who met him. I hadn't let myself contemplate the possibility that my story might be truth. Despite the little hints of Nathan in his face, and despite knowing that I had encouraged Nathan to follow Elua's edict, and that he had indeed prefered Cereus house... despite all the reasons why I could have, I didn't allow myself to even consider it then. Nathan's death was still too raw, too painful. I made myself believe that there was no part of him left on the earth for Daniel's sake, afraid that I would not be able to teach him if I'd allowed my own emotions reign.

And then as he grew older I realized that it didn't matter, whether or not it was a lie. The precious child I'd taken as my ward grew more dear to me than almost anything in the world. As dear to me as John and Anna, as dear to me as my beloved Reese. The possibility that he was Nathan's child had no influence on my love for him.

Now, though, watching him and Ben both step past the threshold of Nathan's home, I allowed myself to accept the truth of it. The emotions that welled up within me were overwhelming, but what would have been crippling sorrow years ago was replaced with a warm, resonant love and pride.

"Lionel, this is the Count Daniel no Rocaille de Corbeau." I said softly, hearing emotion thicken my voice. "Nathan's eldest. And his oathsworn protector of the Cassiline order, Ben no Kerouartz."

Lionel's eyes brightened noticeably as Daniel introduced himself politely, and nodded. "Well, I better go make sure the good china is out for dinner," he managed to say, voice gruff, and left.

"Did I say something wrong?" Daniel asked carefully. I smiled, shaking my head, then wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his hair.

"Not at all, my dear. He's just happy to see you come home."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Dancer of House Eglantine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14404278) by [Bonnie131313](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonnie131313/pseuds/Bonnie131313)




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